


Old Habits

by little_whittles



Series: Remember Me [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Slash, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 17:09:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2781074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_whittles/pseuds/little_whittles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky returns after the incident in Washington D.C. What's left of SHIELD is taking out what's left of HYDRA. Steve tries to fall into old habits with Bucky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Habits

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place after CA:TWS but before A:AoU. Some stuff from the Marvel universe, some from my head. This was supposed to be porn but then derailed into crazy town. Now it's going to be 2 parts. Oops. I swear, after all the drama, there will be some fluffy lovey stuff and sexy times... in part 2. :) For now just lots of pining and healing PTSD.
> 
> Working title was Two Soldiers, One Shield courtesy of my husband who enables my fanfic. :)

Sam might be getting a little tired of Steve thanking him, Steve can tell. Every time he does, Sam rolls his eyes a little. ‘For the millionth time, Steve. Stop.’

But Steve will always be thankful for Sam, who offered to help immediately, who stuck by his side, who seemed to be the only person who understood why he had to find Bucky. Maybe Bucky was beyond all help, but Steve isn’t going to stop until he knows that’s true - and, honestly, probably not even then. His reckless tendencies are in hyper drive, the blind stupidity he always had because of Bucky.

They’ve been looking for months, following some leads from the case file Natasha has given him. It leads them to Russia, onto Ukraine. They find HYDRA bases - or, more aptly, where there have been HYDRA bases. Now it’s just ash and blood. Bucky leaves a trail of wreckage in his wake. Steve knows it has to be Bucky. The brutality of the remains have Winter Soldier written all over them. 

At first, it bothers Steve, knowing Bucky is going to places he remembers, wiping them off the map all alone. Is it causing more problems than it’s solving? What’s going on in Bucky’s mind? He’d saved Steve from the Potomac, he had to remember something, at least. He knows HYDRA is the enemy. But how much does he know about who he’d been, what they’d done to him? Steve starts to consider that it might be therapeutic, that maybe taking revenge is Bucky’s way of setting things right. Balancing out the atrocities HYDRA has made him commit by slitting every single one of their throats.

The trail goes cold in Poland. No more reports of smoking buildings, no missing persons. Nothing at all. The Winter Soldier is, once again, a ghost. Steve and Sam have been at their hotel in Gniezno for a week. It’s a nice enough place, clean and central, which is all they really ask for these days. The carpet is worn and flat, fading burgundy, and the wallpaper peeling at the edges. It has less mold than the place in Zolochiv, and the sheets are clean.

Steve calls Natasha. He doesn’t want to, but knows he’s out of options. He knows she’s going to tell him he shouldn’t have gone looking at all. Maybe she’s right. He listens to the phone ring and waits for her to answer. The light is fading in his room and he paces by the window, unable to pull his eyes away in case he might see Bucky running down the street, or coming out of the market. He hasn’t seen Bucky since the helicarrier, but he’s always looking.

“Rogers,” Natasha answers.

“Hey Nat.”

“Poland, huh?”

Steve smiles a little. “You tracking me?”

“Maybe there’s a little something in your phone that lets me do that, yeah. Someone’s gotta keep an eye on you. Other than Sam. So, I take it you haven’t found him?”

“Yeah, nothing. Not for a week,” Steve says into his cell.

“Maybe he hit all of the the bases he knew about,” Natasha suggests.

“That makes sense. But I have no idea what his next move would be.” Steve tries gently prompting her, as if she wouldn’t know what he was doing. This was, after all, her area.

Natasha laughs into the phone. “Come on out and ask, Rogers. Cut a few minutes off the guessing game.”

Steve sighs. “Have you heard anything? Have any idea where he might go next?”

Natasha is quiet for a second. “I’ll put in some calls. Give it some thought. Call me in a few days, sooner if he turns up.”

“Thanks Nat,” Steve says, ending the call. He’s kind of surprised she’s been willing to help, he knows she thinks Bucky is a lost cause. He guesses she doesn’t have it in her to tell him that. As if he doesn’t think that exact thought at least once a day.

“Well?” Sam asks from behind him. He’s sitting in the desk chair, swiveling idly, hands folded together under where his chin is resting on them.

“She’s gonna check into it, let us know.” Steve rubs the back of his neck, feeling a little embarrassed. He always does, always feels a little desperate and pathetic when he’s talking about Bucky. “Look, if you wanna head back, I won’t-“

“Dude, it’s only been a week. Let’s give it one more. Head back together if there’s nothing,” Sam says easily. Steve is, once again and seemingly always, grateful for Sam Wilson. 

~

This is the third call Steve has put in to Natasha. She seems a little exasperated. And by a little, it’s actually a lot.

“I’ve got nothing for you, I’m sorry. No one’s seen him, and everywhere I thought he might go has come up clear through my contacts.” She sounds clipped, and Steve knows he’s probably driving her nuts with this relentless search of his. At least she’s been kind enough not to point out the obvious: Bucky’s gone. Steve probably won’t ever find him, and even if he does, it won’t be Bucky. It’ll walk, talk, and look like his best friend. And then, try to kill him.

“Right. Well… thanks anyway,” Steve says. He must sound as disappointed as he feels, because Natasha’s response is softer.

“He’ll turn up eventually. We’ll find him. It’s been three months, Steve. Come back, rest, regroup. Okay?”

Steve sighs. “Yeah, all right. See you soon.”

Sam’s in his own room, just down the hall. Steve’s glad to be alone right now, he needs to be. He’s crumbling, he can feel it, the desire to give up. Not on Bucky, on everything. The same feeling he got when Bucky didn’t know him anymore. If there was nothing left of his friend to save, he’d rather drown in the river than look into those eyes and see nothing of the man he knew. 

It’s late, and he should probably be sleeping. Steve resigns himself to telling Sam in the morning to pack up. He feels a tremendous sense of guilt, like he’s giving up on Bucky. If he didn’t have people expecting things of him, he would honestly just stay, until the next sign led him somewhere else. Stay until he found Bucky, found out what was left. If there was nothing left, maybe just stayed until he withered away.

Natasha won’t let him get away with that, and neither will Sam. It’s probably really great that he has them, but right now he wishes he didn’t.

~ 

The police tape has been pulled down from Steve’s door finally. He steps in and drops his bags, his shield, and tries to ignore the chill from the bullet holes blasted through his drywall. Fury’s blood has dried on the carpet, crusted and smeared where Steve had dragged him. He can’t live here, he knows that. He texts Tony for help of a remodel so he can sell it, and heads to the corner coffee shop to check the listings in the paper.

A big part of Steve wants to move back to Brooklyn. He thinks that, if Bucky ends up getting his memory back, or if some long buried instinct kicks in, that’s where he would go. He knows that’s not really possible. Aside from what remains of SHIELD being here, Sam’s here. Peggy’s here.

Steve orders a coffee and grabs a pen from the barista. He asks for a newspaper and she stares at him for a moment. No one reads real papers anymore, they do everything on their smartphones. Steve needs something a little old fashioned right now, though. The barista finally tells him that she, “thinks some old guy brought one in” and Steve finds it folded up on a table by the window. He sits down and starts circling listings that sound promising.. He looks at one bedrooms at first, but it dawns on him maybe he should get two, in case an Avenger is in town or Sam need a place to crash or-

If he’s honest, he knows why. It’s if he ever finds Bucky, maybe he’ll move in. He’ll need a place, and Steve will just happen to have a room for him. It’ll be like old times, except with a bedroom for each of them. They won’t have to share the bed, like they used to, because they couldn’t afford a second bed, let alone a two bedroom apartment.

Steve thinks for a second about going back to the one bedrooms, but shake his head to clear it. That wouldn’t be right. He’d be taking advantage. He felt like he was taking advantage back then, Bucky having to pay most of the rent, buying most of the food, only getting half a bed he had to share with a wheezing asthmatic with ice blocks for feet. Bucky always used to shout when Steve’s foot would accidentally touch his leg, and he made him wear two pairs of socks to bed all winter.

Steve smiles at the memory, but before long it starts to hurt to think about how much he’s lost, how much he always wanted but never had the guts to ask for. He goes back to his paper, circling a few listings, and finishes his coffee.

~

It takes three weeks to get a new place, Steve’s weirdly picky about it. He wants it cozy like his first place with Bucky, but obviously not the matchbox they had back then. Something for all his books, with good lighting in case he ever feels like he can pick up a pencil and paper ever again to draw. He hasn’t drawn since the Battle of New York. He can’t pinpoint if it’s lack of inspiration or if he’s just too broken now to create anything anymore.

The perfect place ends up being a double level apartment, which he thinks will be perfect if he ever does have someone living with him. It was built in 1935 and Steve likes the old brick on the outside. The inside has an open floor plan, lots of windows, hard wood floors. He doesn’t do much cooking but the realtor went on and on about the kitchen upgrades and how much counter space it has. Steve likes that it’s neat and clean, but still feels familiar somehow.

Steve moves his stuff on his own, even though Sam teases him about assembling the Avengers to help. He calls Tony’s cell phone once everything is out of the way, needing to have the old place fixed up to be sold.

Pepper answers, “Hello?”

“Oh, hi Pepper. It’s Steve. Rogers.” Still can’t talk to women half the time.

“Yeah, I know, when you call Tony’s phone, a picture of you pops up. It’s from the 40s actually, the old uniform, I think-“

“He thinks it’s funny I’m in tights?” Steve finishes.

“Knowing Tony,” Pepper says, sounding amused. “He’s kind of in the middle of something, do you want him to call back?”

“Nah, can you just - the remodel he was going to help with, whenever he’s ready, the place is ready.”

“Already moved? You should have called, we could have helped!”

Steve is regularly baffled at how Tony landed such a classy lady. “He’s already helping me with plenty. Just let him know, could you?”

“I will. Take care, Steve. We’ll talk soon.”

~

Tony has the work done in a few weeks and Steve’s gotta hand it to Stark, he knows good people. His old place looks better than it had. It’s easy to sell, since his realtor insists on telling people that Captain America lived there. It only takes a week or so to settle into a routine in his new neighborhood. He’s running with Sam most mornings, but since SHIELD went under with HYDRA, he finds that he doesn’t have a lot to do. He reads, continues to catch up with everything he’s missed. He pulls out an old sketch pad and drawing pencils, but just ends up idly shading the edges. He’s restless, knowing Bucky is out there, somewhere. He wants to head back out, keep looking, and he has to fight the urge every day. How do you find someone who doesn’t want to be found?

Steve invites Natasha over for dinner and to see the new place. Having someone over might break him out of the funk he’s been in, and maybe he can see if she has any new information, anything that might help. It’s good to have her around, they’ve gotten so close after everything that’s happened. Natasha is telling him a story about the latest time Clint had a run in with gansters and happened to be naked, and they’re laughing. 

She sets down her knife and fork, and takes a sip of her wine before she says, “By the way, Fury called a meeting tomorrow. Wanted me to ask you to come in.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Is that why you agreed to have dinner with me?”

Natasha smiles and shakes her head. “No, it’s because you promised me steak and I know that’s one thing you can actually cook.” She smirks. “You don’t have to, obviously.”

“Is this the start of new SHIELD?” Steve can hear the skepticism in his own voice.

“Honestly? Probably. But it’s something. And maybe it can be good this time.”

Steve sighs. “I’ll think about it. Where is this meeting?”

Natasha pulls a pen out of her purse from where it’s hanging on the back of her chair. She scribbles an address on a napkin and passes it to him. “It’s a safe space. Fury had it all checked out.”

Steve smiles at her, more to pacify her than anything else. They finish eating and talk until a little later than they should Steve decides not to bother asking her about Bucky - the subject has only irritated and exhausted her lately, and it’s been a pleasant evening. Plus, he doesn’t need her telling Fury about it. He’s not sure where Nick stands on the whole Winter Soldier thing, after been almost killed by him.

Once she leaves, Steve settles onto the couch, flipping on the tv. He doesn’t really watch it, too busy trying to decide if he should go to the meeting with Fury or not. It will give him something to do, something to take his mind off of everything else. Make him feel useful again, because these days her really, really doesn’t.

~

In the end, Steve realizes he has no reason not to go just to hear Fury’s pitch. He can always decline if he doesn’t like the sound of things. Steve isn’t sure what he’ll do if he doesn’t become a part of this. He knows that it isn’t healthy, spending so much time alone and locked in his apartment, but he can’t seem to bring himself to do much else.

Steve drives his motorcycle to the address Natasha gave him, following her instructions to use the back door that leads underground. The stairs are concrete and lead straight down to another door. It’s locked and Steve has to knock. Natasha is on the other side when it opens.

“Glad you could make it,” she grins. She steps aside to let him into the room.

“How did you know it was me?” Steve half teases, because he wouldn’t be surprised if she said something about the sound of his footsteps and the pressure of his knock. Instead, she gestures with her head to a bank of monitor feeds in the corner.

The room is only a bit more plush than the hallway leading to it. It’s got tile floors and white walls, with a plain metal able in the center with chairs strewn around it. There’s nothing on the walls, only another small table pushed out of the way with a coffee pot and mugs on it.

Fury and Hill are at the table and Natasha and Steve join them.

“Rogers,” Fury nods. Steve returns it, along with one for Maria. “I don’t know how much Romanoff has told you about this meeting, but there’s nothing official. Yet. We know SHIELD is done, but we feel that there needs to be something new. To prepare us for threats, especially surrounding the Avengers.”

Steve flicks his eyes between the three of them. “And you’re all on board?”

“There are others,” Hill offers. “Barton. Agent May. Coulson.”

Steve blinks in surprise, and he must have missed something vital. “Coulson?”

“Not dead. Long story,” Fury dismisses him. He’s going to have to ask Natasha for that story later.

“So what exactly is the game plan, here?” Steve asks.

“Try to rebuild a base of operations. Recruitment. We want to be ready as fast as we can in case of an imminent threat,” Fury answers.

“Any threat in particular?” Steve is daring him to say it. The Winter Soldier.

Fury waves his hand dismissively. “Nothing official, like I said. But I’d like you in on this. Wilson, too, if you can get him.”

Steve crosses his arms over his chest, leaning his elbows on the table. “Can I think about it?”

Fury leans back. “Of course. Take your time. Like I said, we’re not in trouble. Yet.”

Steve stands, shakes Fury and Hill’s hands. “I’ll be in touch.”

Natasha walks him to the door and steps outside with him. “Something on your mind Rogers?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Pretty sure it’s not safe to have a private conversation here.”

Natasha clicks something on her ear piece, presumably turning off audio devices in the hall. 

“Besides Coulson not being dead?”

“It’s not that long of a story. Alien DNA. Resurrected. Not something we should ever do again probably.”

Steve shakes his head in shock, partially due to the fact that it seems like that’s not a big deal to anyone. Although, considering what he’s been through, it probably shouldn’t be one to him either. “Okay. Why didn’t they say anything about Bucky?”

Natasha shrugs. “Maybe there’s nothing to say about it.”

Steve scowls at her, then puts his hands on his hips. “Really, Nat?”

She sighs. “Fine. They didn’t want to upset you.”

“Upset me?” He raises his eyebrows. “I’m not Dr. Banner.”

Natasha crosses her arms, spins away from him for a second then back. “Look, they really want you in on this. If they name Barnes as a threat, they know they don’t have a chance.”

“And what do you think?” Steve asks her honestly, because he knows she’ll be straight with him.

“I think it can be a good thing. Will be. And I think, if you’re in, they’ll follow your lead on any decisions made about Barnes.”

Steve feels like he’s being strong armed a bit with that statement, but he knows she’s right. It’s the best chance he has at protecting Bucky. “I just need time.”

“I get it. Let me know. Soon.” She spares him a smile before going back through the door.

~

Steve does take his time, about three weeks of it. He calls Natasha and tells her the good news, and gets in touch with Sam to pass on Fury’s proposal.

When there’s a knock on his door the next day, he figures it’s Natasha or Fury, ready to give him an assignment or a little more information. When he opens the door, it’s Clint Barton. He opens it a little wider.

The world drops away, just like it had on the bridge. His stomach clenches and he thinks he might be sick for a moment. Everything seems muffled and slowed down to a crawl. 

“Bucky?”

It’s his friend’s face, his hair still long but clean, his leather uniform replaced by jeans and a t-shirt. He feels like he’s falling in to the Potomac all over again, weirdly weightless and chills overtaking him.

“What the hell is this?” he hears himself say, his voice sounding muted to his own ears.

“Can we come in?” Clint asks with a quirk of a smile. Dumbfounded, Steve steps aside to let them in. He keeps his eyes trained on Bucky, trying to read him, if it’s him or the Soldier or something else entirely. They move into the entrance and Clint snaps the door shut behind them. He drops a dark green duffle by their feet.

“Did I not say that out loud? What the hell?” Steve repeats, irritation rising in him. Why is Clint with Bucky? Why is he just showing up with him, right on his doorstep, the day after Steve’s accepted Fury’s offer to be part of the team? Something isn’t right, alarms are going off in his head. Why are they manipulating him?

“Could we get something to drink? It was a long drive,” Barton says instead of answering. 

Steve grits his teeth. “Sure,” he says. “What can I get you?”

Clint glances to Bucky. “Beers?” Bucky nods, face almost blank aside from a small, shy smile. He seems timid, fractured. Not lost though, like he had been. Steve doesn’t know what he’s dealing with at all.

He goes into his kitchen and shouts behind him, “Long drive from where?” He grabs a couple beers Sam has left behind, and a bottle of the Asgardian Ale Thor had given him. It supposed to be strong enough to get him drunk, at least for a little while. And that is something he sorely needs right now.

Steve joins them in his living room, hands a beer to Clint who nods his thanks. He turns to the other end of the couch and passes one to Bucky. It’s weird to see him, looking so much like Steve remembers and yet nothing at all. Bucky barely meets his eyes when Steve hands the beer over, and Steve’s mind races over so many possibilities in seconds. He doesn’t remember him. He doesn’t remember being Bucky Barnes. He doesn’t remember being the Soldier, nothing. He only remembers being the Soldier. He-

“Iowa,” Clint says. It’s enough to interrupt Steve’s train of thought and he pulls his eyes from Bucky.

“Iowa,” he repeats. Clint nods as he sips his beer. “Why were you in Iowa?” He starts the question looking at Clint, but turns to Bucky. Bucky has been watching him, but looks away, then to Clint to answer.

“My farm.”

“You have a farm?” It seems like a really unlikely thing for Barton, of all people, to have. Clint just nods, no explanation given. “Am I missing something?” He’s getting a little exasperated.

“That’s where we’ve been.”

“Why was Bucky in Iowa?”

“Um,” Bucky says quietly, redirecting Steve’s attention. “I am sitting right here. You can ask me.”

It sounds like Bucky. It looks like Bucky. 

“He wasn’t, until we took him there,” Clint answers, instead of letting either of them speak.

“Took him there?” Steve can barely grasp a single question racing in his mind to ask. He takes a long pull off his drink and makes a mental note to thank Thor because he can feel it taking the edge off pretty quickly.

“Picked him up in Poland. Nat brought him in.”

“Poland…” Steve’s brain is on overdrive, trying to put the pieces together. “When?”

“About… four months ago?” Clint looks to Bucky for verification.

“Closer to five,” Bucky amends.

Five months ago. That’s when Steve was in Poland, when the trail had gone cold. When Natasha told him to come home. He’s angry, he feels betrayed.

Barton must see it on his face, because he adds, “He was following you.”

Steve’s eyes dart to Bucky and he smiles shyly again, looks away. Bucky being shy, especially around Steve, is new. It’s making him uneasy, Bucky seeming so like his old self, but not entirely. He doesn’t know what that means.

“Five months… and you didn’t tell me. Natasha, Fury… they lied to my face. Why?” Steve demands, the anger rising in him, making him feel that familiar fight or flight spike of adrenaline.

“Why don’t you guys go over that, huh? I need to be getting back, they’re expecting me.” Clint stands and sets his empty beer bottle on the coffee table.

“What?” 

“We thought maybe Bucky could stay with you for a bit. There’s no SHIELD facility to take him to, and he’s not completely out of the woods. If that’s okay.”

Steve knows his jaw has dropped and that they’re both waiting for him to get it together, to say something. This is what he had imagined happening, more or less. Except he would be there when they found Bucky, to help bring him in, to help him remember. They wouldn’t be dropping him off on Steve’s doorstep like this. He’s pissed, he feels betrayed, but he’s also relieved that Bucky is here and still alive and hasn’t tried to kill him yet.

“Yeah. Sure,” he answers blankly. He feels all emotion drain from him, he feels empty. 

Clint moves to the door and Steve follows, grabbing his arm before he can slip into the hall. “Hey. I don’t… I don’t know anything about what’s going on, I’m completely in the dark. How’s he doing? What does he remember?”

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Clint says, a hint of a smile in his voice.

“Barton-“ Clint turns back. “Thank you. For bringing him in. Taking care of him. Bringing him here.” As mad as Steve might have been moments ago, he is grateful. Bucky’s home.

Clint pats his arm. “It’s where he wanted to be. Call in a couple days, let me know how things are going.”

Steve nods and Barton goes. Steve closes the door, turns back to Bucky, who’s still sitting on the couch.

“I have enhanced hearing, you know,” Bucky says. He sounds like he did in 1941, casual and cocky. Steve hesitates before rejoining him in the living room, sitting in the chair across from him. “Ask away, I can tell it’s bugging you.”

“I don’t know who you are,” Steve finally manages. It’s not what he intended to say, or maybe it was. It’s the truth, regardless.

Bucky looks pained to hear it, and Steve regrets saying it. “It’s me, Stevie. I swear.”

Steve fights every urge he has, to hug Bucky, to cry, to scream. “Are you hungry?” he blurts instead. He doesn’t know why but he’s nervous to get answers after wondering so many things for so long.

Bucky’s eyebrows raise and he snorts. “I say ask me anything and you ask if I’m hungry?“ Steve opens his mouth, but Bucky doesn’t let him speak. “Yeah, I could eat.”

Steve stands too quickly, a little off balance from the ale. “I’ll… make something. Did you want a shower? I can show you to your room-“

“Steve. I can find my own room,” Bucky says gently, standing and going to grab the green duffle bag Clint had brought in. He disappears down the hall. 

Steve runs his hand over his face, keeping his palm pressed over his mouth for a second before going into the kitchen to start dinner. He open all of his cupboards and his fridge. Looks like all he can really make is spaghetti, but it’ll have to do. He starts the water to boil and puts the sauce on to simmer low.

Bucky joins him in the kitchen a few minutes later, sitting at the table and opening a laptop. “What’s your wifi?” Steve stares at him. “You do have internet, right?” Steve doesn’t reply still. “Computer. Ringing any bells?”

Steve shakes his head to regain focus. “Yeah, I… you have a laptop?”

Bucky looks at him strangely. “Yeah. Don’t you?”

“I just thought… you know what? I don’t know what I thought.” He rummages through a junk drawer and pulls out a scrap of paper with the wifi network and password on it. “Bucky…”

“Yeah?” Bucky asks absently, typing the information into his computer.

“This isn’t… weird for you?”

“Internet? Nah. I was sort of around for it, then knew how to use it.”

“I meant this. Being here. With me. Wait, knew how?” Steve asks for clarification, mildly horrified. Did HYDRA implant that knowledge directly? Did he wake up one day, three years after his last mission, and just know?

“Yeah, I… knew. And yes, it’s weird. I’m just… I’m trying.” He types for a moment, and Steve turns to add the noodles and stir the sauce. His back is still turned when Bucky says, “Steve?”

Steve whirls quicker than he meant to. “Yeah Buck?”

“Are you gonna ask me anything else?” He sounds almost hurt that Steve hasn’t.

Steve shrugs, acting casual when he’s actually lightheaded with an overload of what the hell is going on here? “Are you ready to talk about it?”

Bucky chuckles and it sounds a little rough. Steve doesn’t know what to make of that. “Pretty much done nothing but talk about it. So go for it.”

Steve doesn’t know where to start, so he decided to go in what might be chronological order. “When did you remember who you were?”

“Poland,” he answers easily. Steve raises his eyebrows, hoping for more. Bucky sighs. “Right before I stopped blowing up HYDRA bases.”

“So… you didn’t know why you were blowing them up?” Steve’s theory of retaliation is falling apart quickly. He stirs the food and waits for Bucky’s answer.

“I knew why. I knew they’d erased me.” Steve thinks he might vomit. “I knew they used me. But the night it came back… I couldn’t keep killing them the way I had before.” Bucky looks thoughtful, almost like he’s a little confused as to why he stopped. Steve is. Steve still wants to go out there, take them out, kill every last one of them that did this to Bucky.

“So, you just… it all came back?” Steve continues.

“I had a dream one night. No, a nightmare. I was falling, with the wind rushing past me. You were screaming…” Bucky shudders even now at the memory, and Steve resists the urge to touch him. He’s not sure if that’s okay. He’s not sure if Bucky might finally see through the careful failsafes he’s set up. “I woke up screaming. And it was all there; everything I’d been, that they made me.”

“So you left Poland?”

Bucky shakes his head. “I was out of my mind for days, just a complete mess. Kept getting sick, couldn’t eat or sleep. Hell, I could hardly stand without passing out.” Steve winces, can’t help it. He should have been there, would have been able to- “Once I could move again, I knew I had to get to you. I was able to track you down pretty easily.”

“Easily?” Steve says. “We were under the radar, off the grid-“

Bucky’s snort interrupts him. “Not to me. I had all the Soldier memories too, still do. Can hack almost anything.”

“Maybe you should join SHIELD,” Steve mutters.

“I found the hotel you were in, watched you for a few days. When I saw you packing up, I knew I had to make contact. That’s when she snagged me.”

“Natasha?” Steve asks. He drains the pasta and plates it, pouring on the sauce. He grabs two forks and sets Bucky’s meal down in front of him, then takes a seat across the table.

“Yeah,” Bucky confirms around a mouthful of food. “Talked some sense into me before I made a run at ya looking like a maniac.”

“What else did she talk you in to?” Steve snarks, feeling his anger at Natasha rising.

Bucky ignores it. “Going to a farm in Iowa.”

Steve takes a bite. “Okay, what’s with the farm?”

“I’m not really sure. Doesn’t seem like there’s actually much farming going on. Lots of dogs there though. Anyway, hey thought they could help me.” Bucky tucks his hair behind his ear.

“They?”

“Clint and Natasha. What with both of them being previously brainwashed.”

Shit. Steve had not thought about that. He forgot what had happened to them, why they might be keeping things from him in about Bucky. “Did they?” he finally asks.

“You tell me.” Bucky smiles, drawing one leg up onto the chair and leaning in to eat.

Steve had thought, if he ever caught up with Bucky, that he’d probably still think he was the Winter Soldier. Maybe he’d have some fragments of memory, but not all of it. He thought he’d have to bring him in, settle in for the long haul. Maybe years of rehabilitation. Bucky might not ever remember. Bucky might kill him.

Now Bucky’s sitting across from him, twirling spaghetti like he used to, and scrolling through something on his laptop. He looks more at ease than Steve feels. Like they never left Brooklyn, and the world changed around them as they stayed locked in a time capsule.

Unless this is all an act, and his mission is still on. Steve can’t think about that. He can’t. This has to be real.

“Looks that way,” he says at last.

~

Steve dreams of Europe, of cold wind whipping his hair. Of a blast that peels back metal, the screech sound of it that sets his teeth on edge. The coldness gets sharper, the snow stings his cheeks. He dreams of Bucky falling, screaming, his voice echoing down, down, down.

He wakes with a shout - not long but loud, and he’s covered in sweat. His heart thunders against his breast bone and he gasps for air he didn’t know he’d lost. He tells himself it’s okay, Bucky is here, he’s alive. He tries to breathe, props himself up on one elbow and startles when he sees Bucky’s frame in the doorway.

“Bad dream?” Bucky asks. He’s in the shadows, Steve can’t see his face. His voice is even, calm.

Steve gulps in a breath, “Yeah.”

Bucky crosses the room and the bed dips beneath his weight as he sits on the edge, close to but not touching Steve.

“Was it me?” Bucky asks quietly, making Steve’s heart clench. He wants to lie, but thinks better of it.

“Yeah.”

Bucky’s sigh breezes over Steve’s bare arm. Bucky reaches behind him, starts rubbing Steve’s back in slow circles. “Just breath, nice and slow.”

Steve tightens. Not because it doesn’t feel good, or he’s scared. This is what Bucky used to do when Steve’s asthma would flare up. They’d count their inhales and exhales until Steve’s chest stopped rattling. Bucky hesitates at Steve’s reaction, but only waits a few seconds before starting again, a light brush of fingers on his skin. Steve sinks back, turning more onto his side so Bucky has an easier time of comforting him.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky says, and it startles Steve. He might have been drifting off again. 

“For what?” Steve mumbles into his pillow. He’s sure he knows what Bucky means, but thinks Bucky wants to say it. If he needs this, Steve will let him.

“You know what,” Bucky replies lowly, then, “For almost killing you.” It clenches Steve’s throat back up. He chokes a little and Bucky presses his hand more firmly against Steve’s skin. “I hate that you have to dream about it, remember it.”

“That wasn’t the dream,” Steve says. His breathing is steady again but Bucky is still stroking his back. “Never dream about that.”

“What was it then?” Bucky asks.

“You were falling,” Steve manages before drifting off. “You’re always falling.”

~

When Steve wakes up, he rolls toward the middle of the bed, half expecting Bucky to be there. When they only had the one bed in Brooklyn. When they first moved in, one of them would take the couch. They were supposed to switch off, but with Steve being sick through the winters, Bucky would always pretend to accidentally fall asleep of the couch when it was his turn. Steve would shake him, try to wake him. Bucky would press his lips tight together to suppress a grin and pretend to snore. Steve would cram a pillow under his head and cover him with a blanket. 

When Steve’s asthma would flare, and he was coughing and wheezing through the night, Bucky would sit at his back, flat palm trailing over his spine and shoulder blades. He would fall asleep upright sometimes, long hours at the garage and an early morning around the corner.

Eventually Steve started muttering, “Lie down, Buck.” He hated that Bucky had to work so hard, and that Steve was putting an extra strain on him. But he knew if he tried to call Bucky off completely, he’d have a real battle on his hands. Bucky would take the other side of the bed, petting Steve until they both fell asleep. The winter became the whole year, they just shared the bed. They’d been friends for so long, it wasn’t anything more. 

On the nights Steve was well, which was late spring through early fall, he had a hard time sleeping, fully aware of Bucky’s proximity. He’s roll onto his belly in the mornings, press his shameful erection into the mattress so Bucky wouldn’t see. He tried convincing himself for over a year that it was normal, it happened in the morning all the time, Bucky next to him or not. Then he got tired of lying to himself; he knew full well what he felt for Bucky, but no one else could ever know.

Steve is 28, or 96 years old, depending how you look at it. Either way, he feels like he’s way too old for morning wood now.

There’s a shower in the master bedroom so he jumps in, take care of things quickly and efficiently, tries to keep his imagination from narrowing his thoughts. He puts on his running clothes since he’s meeting Sam this morning and heads out of his room and down the stairs.

It smells like bacon, and Steve’s pretty sure he didn’t see bacon in the fridge last night. He rounds the corner to the kitchen and Bucky has his back to him, working over the stove.

“Morning. Hungry?” Bucky asks without turning. He has a dish towel thrown over his shoulder and is flipping the bacon with a fork.

“Sure,” Steve replies, fighting the wave of nostalgia that almost feels like nausea. “Bacon?”

“Eggs and pancakes, too,” Bucky says.

“Did I have any of that?” Steve takes a seat at his table.

“You had jack shit, pal. Don’t worry, I found the store easy enough.”

“I’ll give you some cash-“

“You most certainly will not,” Bucky cuts in, finally turning and glaring. “I’m crashing here, it’s the least I can do. You still like your eggs over hard?”

Steve swallows around the lump in his throat. It seems like some memories should have slipped through the cracks, but no. He remembers how Steve takes his eggs. “Yeah,” he manages.

“Coffee’s on, too. I know it doesn’t do anything for you, but-“

“I always liked the ritual,” Steve smiles. Bucky mirrors it. This seems too easy. Steve doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“What’s the plan for today?” Bucky asks chipper, returning his focus to breakfast.

Steve crosses to the coffee pot, pouring himself a cup. He shrugs even though Bucky isn’t looking. “Running with Sam this morning. No other pressing agenda items.”

“Mind if I tag along? I could use a good run.”

Steve hesitates. “You ready for that?”

Bucky turns to him again, eyebrow raised. “For running?” Steve just looks helplessly at him. Bucky thinks he’s an idiot, and he’s not sure who’s right here. “Yeah, think I can handle that. If Sam doesn’t mind.”

Why should he mind, Steve thinks. The last time he saw you, you only kicked him off a helicarrier. And shit, Steve never even told Sam what was going on. “Should be fine,” he says nonchalantly, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He sends Sam a quick text: “Bucky’s here. Got here yesterday. We should talk but he wants to run with us.”

Bucky sets a plate in front of him and Steve’s eyes flick up. Bucky’s smile is confident and happy and Steve tells his heart to knock off the racing it’s doing. He can’t get his head around this, that Bucky’s here and safe and himself and fine. Why is he fine? Where’s the catch?

His phone chimes and he reads the text quickly: “I know, Tasha called. See you guys in a few. ;)”

Why a wink face? Steve wonders.

“Eat up, Soldier, I’m gonna give you a run for your money,” Bucky teases, eating his breakfast as he leans against the counter. 

~

Bucky had not been kidding, he is fast. Steve knows that, knows what HYDRA has done to him has given him enhanced abilities. Steve can easily keep pace with him, but after a few laps he drops back to talk to Sam.

“What’s the matter, old man? Tired already?” Bucky teases, running backward for a second before taking off again. Steve only shakes his head and grins.

“So,” Sam starts, smirking.

“What?” Steve asks, feigning irritation.

“Your boy’s back.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees vaguely. He really is Steve’s boy, the same one who fell from the train, the one who loved the Stark EXPOS, the one who showed him his first dirty magazine. 

“But?” Sam leads, obviously picking up on Steve’s silence.

Steve shrugs, guilt sweeping through him. “I know I should be grateful. I am. I really am. But,” he sighs, “it seems too easy. He’s really Bucky, not some broken mess, not the Winter Soldier. Just feels…”

“Too good to be true?” Sam finishes between breaths.

“Yeah,” Steve admits. Bucky cruises by them, slapping Steve playfully on the ass on his way.

“Pick up the pace, Captain America!” he shouts, elated. Then he pushes ahead.

Steve laughs,”I feel like an asshole for complaining.”

“Nah man, I get it,” Sam says. “His progress is amazing, I’ll admit. But from what Tasha told me, it was rough. Intense at first. Her and Barton really took an aggressive approach, and it paid off. I’m betting his super stuff and HYDRA conditioning helped, which is stupidly ironic.”

Steve is quiet and thoughtful for a few minutes. “I just wonder why they didn’t call me in on it.”

Sam answers easily, “Probably thought it would do more harm than good. You were a trigger, both good and bad. I’m sure they thought it was best.”

Steve nods and Bucky comes up beside them again. “Hey Wilson, can I borrow him?” Sam chuckles and shrugs. “Last lap’s a race. Whoever loses is making dinner. Ready…” Bucky looks Steve in the eye mischievously. “Set…” he tilts his head down. “GO!”

Bucky takes off and Steve turns quickly to Sam. “Go on, go!” Sam encourages, laughing. Steve takes off, running after Bucky. He catches up easily but acts a little winded.

“Man, you’ve been letting yourself go,” Bucky teases. Steve raises and eyebrow and goes full throttle, can hear Bucky behind him whining, ”Aw, come on! That’s not fair! Captain America cheats!”

~

By the end of the week, they’ve settled into some kind of routine. Bucky’s always awake first - Steve wonders how much he actually sleeps - and he makes breakfast. They run with Sam some days. Sam is very friendly with Bucky, and they get along quickly by picking on Steve. Bucky likes to walk the neighborhood to get to know it, starts being friendly with the regulars he sees. (Steve’s across the hall neighbor, a retired veteran named George, tells him his boyfriend is very nice and good for them. Steve doesn’t have the heart to correct him.)

Bucky likes to cook, maybe because he hasn’t been able to really do that in so long, so Steve lets him. Truth be told, Steve’s terrible at it anyway, Bucky had always been better. He loves the little family owned markets nearby, says they remind him of Brooklyn, and that’s where he does all the grocery shopping. 

Bucky really likes doing anything mundane, probably because it’s so different than what he’s been doing for fifty years. He wasn’t allowed to do anything that wasn’t for the mission. He only ate food for fuel, not for pleasure. He never took a walk just to enjoy being outside. These were things Bucky loved before the war, and they robbed him of it. Now he was making up for lost time.

Natasha calls to check in, and Bucky says, loud enough for her to hear, “Is that Nat checking in? Tell her to come for dinner and she can see it first hand.” He grins proudly and Natasha laughs in Steve’s ear.

“I’ll be there at seven, and I’ll bring the wine.”

Bucky is still great with the ladies.

He makes veal orlov because he knows Natasha will like it, and she does. They’ve almost finished with the bottle of wine she brought when Steve rises to do the dishes. He’s been mostly quiet through the meal, listening to Bucky and Natasha talk easily. He says something in Russian and she cracks up. Steve smiles and turns to the sink, rinsing the plates.

“We’re almost out of wine,” Natasha notes, her voice slightly sing songy. Steve is flattered that she trusts them enough to put her guard down and get a little tipsy with them. Steve’s had a glass of wine, and he likes the taste, but he’s stone cold sober as usual.

Bucky’s cheeks are flushed, so apparently whatever Zola did to him hasn’t affected him quite like the serum did Steve. “I’ll run down to the shop, grab another.”

“Nah, I should go,” she says, but there’s hesitance in her voice, and Steve can hear her smile.

“I won’t hear it. One more bottle. Hell, two more. You can crash here. Right, Stevie?” Bucky asks. 

Steve glances at him. “Of course. Any time.”

“It’s settled. Be right back.” Steve hears the door close as Bucky heads out.

Steve loads the dishwasher, then rejoins Natasha at the table. She pours the last of the wine in his glass. “Shouldn’t waste it on me.”

She pulls a face. “Not a waste. So. Out with it. I can tell you have something to say.”

Steve lets out s little laugh. “Man, it’s not fair that you always know that.”

“It’s my job, remember? Plus, you read like an open book.”

“Oh yeah? What do you read?”

Natasha squints her eyes at him, like she’s looking deeper. “You’re obviously happy he’s here. But there’s something else. You don’t trust it. And you’re obviously pissed at me.”

“Not pissed,“ Steve starts. He is, but he feels bad having Natasha know that. She shoots him a look though, and he concedes. “Okay. Maybe a little. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You know why.”

“Natasha-“

“No,” she interrupts. “You know.”

Steve folds his hands on the table. “You thought he might kill me.”

“And you would have let him.”

“Nat-“

“You already almost did, Steve.” She sounds deadly serious. “And even if he didn’t try, Clint and I thought it would be better. For him to stay focused.” She pauses and takes in Steve’s posture, breathing. “I’m sorry. He wanted to see you. He asked every day in the beginning. ‘Where’s Steve? Is he coming?’ I think that might be why he improved so quickly; he knew he could see you if he did.”

Steve huffs out a laugh. “So I was his reward?”

“Does that bother you?” He looks up at her, her head cocked in honest curiosity. Steve is about to reply when the door opens. They both go silent.

“Thought my ears were burning,” Bucky says, but without malice. He sets a bottle down in front of Natasha. “Crack ‘er open, it’s way too serious in here.”

Steve’s a little burnt out on talking, so he grabs some files on HYDRA bases Fury sent with Natasha and he starts working through them. Bucky and Natasha keep talking, drinking wine. They’re still at it when Steve finally stretches and stands.

“I’m gonna hit the hay. Nat, feel free to crash. See you in the morning,” he says easily to Bucky. As if this has been happening for the last 70 years. He can at least pretend he isn’t constantly on edge, pretend that he’s no worried everything will fall apart, pretend he’s doing fine. Hell, he’s been doing that since he woke up, might as well keep on going.

~

Something doesn’t feel right when he wakes up. He can’t place it; maybe he senses Natasha’s presence, because he never heard her leave. The morning feels too still, weirdly claustrophobic. He stretches and his foot bumps something, making his heart jump into his throat. His brain screams threat, and how had he not noticed someone sneaking into his room? He hadn’t been drunk. His muscles tense and he sneaks a glance to his side.

Bucky is passed out and drooling on his pillow.

Huh.

Steve takes a steadying breath and rolls away, starts to slip out of bed when an arm twists around his midsection.

“It’s Saturday, I don’t even gotta work. Stay here a while, Stevie. I’ll make some oatmeal and we’ll catch a picture.” Bucky’s pulled him close and his breath is warm against Steve’s neck and ear. Steve’s stomach drops.

“Buck…”

“C’mon, you know I like to cuddle. But don’t let any of the dames know.” Bucky nuzzles into his shoulder. Did they used to do this? Steve can’t remember exactly, thinks maybe it happened once when Bucky was drunk. Maybe he still is. Bucky sucks in a sharp breath though his nose. “Shit, sorry Stevie.” He sounds more coherent. “Musta been dreaming.”

“Uh,” is all Steve can manage. Bucky pulls away, but stays buried in the blankets.

“Sorry, gave Tasha my bed.” His eyes are closed. The early morning sun reflects off his left arm and Steve squints. “Such a gentleman.”

“She’d tear you apart of you tried anything, more like.”

Bucky chuckles low and sleepy. “You got me there. Hope you don’t mind.” He gestures sloppily to his outstretched body.

Steve swallows and steadies himself. He’s had this damn dream before, too. Bucky’s alive, and in his bed when he wakes up. Instead of pulling away, he pushes back into Bucky, and Bucky’s hand slides down his belly…

“It’s fine,” he says, and it comes out a little clipped. Bucky’s eyes crack open and Steve forces a smile. “Let’s maybe hit that diner this morning, treat Natasha to some greasy hangover food.”

Bucky laughs. “Yeah. Hangover food.”

“You okay?” Steve asks, flinching at the overwhelming concern.

“I’m fine, Mom. Just five more minutes.” His grin is wicked as his eyes drift closed again.

Steve leaves him there, goes to his computer to send some overdue emails and do some mindless internet browsing to distract himself, to keep his mind off the fact that Bucky is in his bed.

~

“Steve, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but I’m kind of bored,” Bucky says, out of the blue, the second week he’s been living with Steve.

Steve knows things have been quiet lately, but he kind of likes it. He’s enjoyed the domesticity of having Bucky around all the time. He never really considered needing to entertain him. He frowns. “I’m… sorry?”

“Don’t take it the wrong way, but don’t you do anything for fun?” Bucky’s sprawled out on the couch foot bouncing over the arm.

“I read, I work out-‘

“I said fun,” Bucky corrects, smirking.

“What did you have in mind?” Steve grins back.

“Let’s go dancing.” Bucky says excitedly, sitting up.

“Ah, no.”

Bucky frowns over where Steve’s sitting at the table with his book open in front of him. “You still don’t dance?”

“I dance,” Steve defends. He remembers going with Sam. It… didn’t go so well. “It’s just… the last time, there was sort of a mob. Of women.”

Bucky takes a beat and cracks up, eventually having to wipe a tear away. “Oh man. That’s hilarious. What a great problem to have. Talk about the exact opposite of your old problem!”

Steve glares at him. “Not my thing.” He goes back to reading.

“What if I promised a night free of a mob of women?” Bucky tries. 

Steve doesn’t really want to. At all. But it’ll make Bucky happy, and they have been cooped up for a while. “Ugh, fine. But if there is a mob, I’m making you deal with it.”

Bucky takes a shower and comes out of his room in jeans and a white t-shirt with a deep v-neck. Steve looks down at his khakis and button down and thinks maybe he’s over dressed. He’d stared until his closet for ten minutes straight, realizing this was a horrible idea. He didn’t even know what to wear, let alone what he was going to do when Bucky inevitably ditched him for some pretty girl. Old habits die hard.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Bucky has one eyebrow raised.

“What’s wrong with this?” Steve defends, even though he knows.

“Nothing, if you’re going to church.” Steve scowls, but Bucky ignores him and breezes past to his room. Steve follows him and watches as he flicks through the clothes in Steve’s closet. “Jesus, nothing but your Sunday best, huh? We need to take you shopping.”

Bucky pulls out Steve’s SSR shirt, the one he woke up in after the ice, and a pair of black jeans. They’re tighter than Steve usually wears them, something he bought online but never got around to returning. “Here,” Bucky says, pressing them into Steve’s chest.

“Jeans and a t-shirt is better than this?” he asks skeptically and Bucky answers with an eyeroll.

Steve unbuttons his shirt, shucks his pants. He pulls on the jeans that feel like they’re clinging as tight as is uniform. He catches Bucky’s eye as he’s pulling the shirt on and Bucky is watching him intently. It makes Steve’s stomach flutter but once the shirt’s on, Bucky’s averted his gaze. It’s stupid of him anyway to think that Bucky was looking at him in any way other than a friendly one. He knows that. Old habits.

The dance club isn’t far away and Bucky wants to walk, loves walking in the city. It’s chilly and neither of them has a coat, but Steve never really feels the cold, his metabolism runs too fast. Bucky shoves his hands into his pockets against a shiver, his nipples peaking under the light fabric of the worn white t-shirt.

Get a grip, Rogers, Steve tells himself. “There’s not going to be two girls waiting for us, is there?” Steve jokes to ease the tension he’s creating in his head.

“Ah, definitely not,” Bucky answers, fighting a grin.

There’s a line to get in to the place Bucky leads them to, but Bucky marches them up to the front door. He slings his arm around Steve’s broad shoulders and says, “Hey, think we can get in?” to the doorman. The guy leers and nods, stepping aside. The people in the line grumble but Bucky turns his charm on them. “See ya inside.” He winks, and Steve laughs at his cheek.

The club is dimly lit but alive with flashing colored lights and thumping music. It’s nothing Steve’s really heard before but recognizes as techno. Tony had told him he had to look up techno or he was no better than someone’s grandpa. He rarely takes advice on stuff like that from Tony, but Clint had backed him up. Tony played some of it at the Tower for them, after New York. Thor had loved it. “This music, it is lively and I enjoy it greatly!” Steve kind of likes it. 

They grab a tall round table for two by the bar and Steve takes a seat.

“What do you want to drink?” Bucky shouts over the music.

“Beer,” Steve yells back. Bucky goes to the bar to order and Steve looks around, can’t help but scan for exits and vantage points and threats. He’ll probably never be able to stop that. When he tips his head back down to eye level, there’s a guy standing on the other side of the table from him.

“Hi,” Steve says awkwardly.

“Hi. I’m Dustin.” He grins.

“Steve,” he returns, offering his hand for a shake. Bucky shows up at his side with a beer that he pushes in front of Steve, and a whiskey he takes a pull from.

“Wanna dance?” Dustin asks Steve. Steve stares, dumbfounded. Before he can answer Bucky steps in.

“My friend is only here to support me,” he says into the shell of Dustin’s ear.

Dustin looks Bucky up and down. “How about you? You wanna dance?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says easily, smiling. He turns to Steve. “Be right back!” Dustin grabs Bucky’s hand and drags him into the throng.

Steve struggles to pick his jaw up off the floor. He scans the crowd quickly. No women. All the guys are dancing against each other. Gay bar. No wonder Bucky promised no mob of women. And Bucky is dancing. With a guy. He tries to get his head around that, tries to remember any guys Bucky spent time with before the war. He can’t focus.

Bucky is true to his word and comes back after a couple songs. He’s sweaty and his shirt is off, hanging over his shoulder. He uses it to wipe his face and chest and then tosses it on the table. He takes a drink of his whiskey and leans into Steve so he can hear. “Sorry about that.”

“Uh, that’s okay…” Steve manages.

“Spit it out,” Bucky urges.

“I didn’t know. I - I thought you likes girls.” He feels like an idiot, like he should have known, or should at least have something better to say.

“I like both,” Bucky corrects easily.

“Ah.” Bucky raises his eyebrows at that. “It’s fine. Obviously.”

Bucky snorts out a laugh at him. “Easy there, Rogers. I probably should have told you. But your face was priceless.” Steve smiles and shakes his head. “So, you wanna dance?”

“Um… I don’t want to give anyone the wrong idea,” Steve says.

“What, that Captain America is gay?” Bucky challenges. There’s some heat to it, and Steve squirms.

“No, that I’m interested in them. Call me what you want but I’m no tease.” He makes the joke to ease the tension and it works. Bucky chuckles.

“Dance with me, then.” Steve blinks, opens his mouth. Tries to think of an excuse. Before he can, Bucky has him by the wrist and hauls him off his chair. “Come on.”

Bucky drags him into the crowd, where the music is louder and the air is thicker. “I don’t know how to dance to this,” Steve shouts into Bucky’s ear.

“Just do what I do,” Bucky instructs. Steve takes a step back to see what that is exactly. Bucky twists his hips and steps to the beat, an easy bounce in place. Steve can do that, sure. So he does, starts moving. He feels pretty good, kind of free, tries to imagine it’s just him and Bucky and no one can see how silly he must look. 

A guy slides up behind him, pressing his pelvis flush to Steve’s ass. Steve startles, but before he can think to do anything, Bucky has a handful of his shirtfront and yanks him in. The guy gets the hint and Bucky keeps Steve close, closer than might be normally comfortable. It’s burning hot and loud and Bucky is in his space. He catches Steve’s eyes and smiles wide.

After a few songs they head back to the bar, grab another round and their table. Steve lifts his shirt to wipe his face - it’s sticking to him, probably see-through now. The walk home is going to be a bit chilly.

“So,” Bucky starts.

“So,” Steve repeats.

“You don’t care?”

Steve blinks at him stupidly. Care about what? Then he glares. “You really think I would?”

“You know what they say about assumptions…” Bucky deflects.

“Bucky,” Steve shakes his head but smiling softly. “You shot me three times, stabbed me, and beat the shit out of me. And you thought I would look at you differently because you’re gay?”

“Bi,” Bucky corrects. “When you put it that way… I really don’t know why you let me live with you.”

Steve grabs Bucky’s arm before the melancholy can set in because no, that was not his point. “You’re an idiot. The point is, there’s nothing you can do that will make me change my mind about you.”

Bucky’s mouth twitches into a half smile. “Guess that makes you the idiot, huh?”

It’s hard to hear over the thrum of the music, but Steve wants to know. “Were there any guys back then… special guys?” Steve asks.

Bucky gets a wistful look on his face. “Even if there were, I couldn’t have done anything about it without worrying about getting kicked out of the army, or getting my ass kicked, or getting killed.”

That hits Steve hard, thinking about Bucky being afraid for his life, not being able to be with someone he cared about. “I’m sorry, Buck.”

Bucky waves his hand dismissively. “On par with other shit I’ve been through, it’s nothing. Plus, I live in the future now, so… doors are open.” He grins. 

A guy comes up to their table, looking between Steve and Bucky. Bucky leans forward a little and that’s enough to draw the guy’s attention to him. He leans in to Bucky and says something into his ear that makes Bucky smile. He looks at Steve to make sure it’s okay and Steve nods. Bucky disappears with the guy. And it’s kind of like old times - Steve in the corner, watching while Bucky dances.

He’s approached a few times in Bucky’s absence, and each time, he just says no thank you. He never says he’s not gay. Because he’s always honest. At least, when he’s asked a direct question, he is.

They race home later, sweat cooling quickly in the brisk DC air, giddy and laughing. It feels like 1933 again. Steve has a dream that night that he’s falling from the helicarrier, but Bucky’s hand reaches out, grabs him by the front of his uniform, and pulls him back in.

~

Steve wakes up later than he has in a while, feels more well rested than usual. The text alert on is phone is what’s woken him and he grabs it from the nightstand. It’s from Natasha:

Fury’s calling us in. Stark Tower, tomorrow at 1400. Bring Wilson and Barnes if you can. Stark is sending a car at 10. Don’t bother arguing with him, you know how exhausting that is. See you tomorrow. :)

Steve smiles and rolls out of bed. He’s kind of glad that they’re being called in, maybe that means a mission. He’s enjoyed the quiet time with Bucky, but he’s been itching for a little action, too. 

He throws on some sweat pants and a t-shirt and enters the common area of the house. Bucky’s bedroom door is open and he’s not inside. “Bucky?” he calls out. No answer. He swallows the panic trying to rise and goes into the kitchen. There’s a note on the table:

Running with Sam, thought I’d let you sleep in. 

\- Bucky

Steve’s been spoiled by Bucky’s cooking, but feels too lazy to make himself anything, so he gets a bowl of cereal and sits at the table. He picks up the pencil and starts idly sketching on Bucky’s note. He eats slowly, the cereal getting soggy. He flips the note to the blank side and starts drawing Bucky from last night. Tries to capture the sheen of sweat on Bucky’s skin, his smile, the light in his eyes…

Steve looks at the drawing and flushes, because jesus. He’s focused on Bucky’s skin, his lips, too much, and Steve’s not an idiot. He knows he’s in love with Bucky. He’s known since he was 13. Looking at this, it’s pretty damn obvious, and Steve is taking that secret to the grave. It had thrown him, finding out Bucky likes guys as well as women. It had been so easy to accept Bucky would never want him because he wasn’t like that. But now, Steve has to come to terms with the fact that it’s him that Bucky will never want.

Steve scrubs his hand over his face and picks up the drawing to crumple it. He can’t though, so he goes to his room and grabs a book from a shelf. He tucks the drawing inside just as he hears the door open and Sam saying, “I’ve learned to accept it, man.”

He hears Bucky laugh, “Yeah, that’s probably best. You’re the king of self acceptance. Ow!” 

Steve knows whatever playful jab Sam’s given Bucky hasn’t really hurt him, but appreciates that Bucky pretends it does. 

Bucky peeks his head into Steve’s room. “Oh good, you’re up. Thought you were gonna be out all day, Sleeping Beauty. You missed a good run followed by an awesome breakfast.”

“Well,” Steve starts, “next time wake me up.”

Bucky sticks his tongue out. “You snooze you lose. I’m not your mom.” He slips out of Steve’s room and Steve follows.

“Mornin’,” Sam says with a devious smile. “Late night out?”

“You told him?” Steve asks Bucky pretending to be annoyed. “I got a text from Natasha.”

“And?” Bucky prompts.

“Fury’s calling me in. Well, us. If you guys want. Tomorrow, New York. Leaving here at 10.”

“Calling me in? Huh,” Bucky says. “This is either really good or really bad.”

Steve hadn’t thought about that; either they want Bucky’s help or Fury has decided he’s still a threat. “Natasha would have told me if it was bad.”

“Yeah, man. I wouldn’t sweat it,” Sam throws in, although Bucky looks fairly calm about the whole thing. “I’m in.”

They both turn to Bucky. “You know I’m too dumb not to follow you, Stevie.”

~

When Tony Stark says car, he means limo. That drives them to a small airfield and a private jet.

“A guy could get used to this, is all I’m saying,” Sam says, whistling. “I need more millionaire friends.”

Steve decides to keep it to himself that he’s pretty rich. It’s not a big deal to him, most of it is backpay. It’s still weird for him to have money since he didn’t have much growing up, and he’s pretty frugal out of habit. He should talk to Fury about what kind of paycheck Bucky might have waiting for him.

“Gentlemen, something to eat or drink?” The flight attendant pulls Steve from his thoughts.

“Holy cow. Yeah, whatcha got?” Bucky asks. She grabs them some menus and leaves them to look things over. “Man, I knew Stark had money, but this is crazy.”

“Tony likes to remind you when he gets the chance,” Steve cracks.

The flight is short, and touches down at another small airfield, where a chopper picks them up and then lands them right on the tower. Tony meets them with outstretched arms.

“Gentlemen, welcome, welcome,” Tony grins.

“Mr. Stark,” Steve says, shaking his hand. 

“Please, we fought aliens together and you may or may not have given me mouth to mouth. We’re past formalities, Steve.” Tony grins. “Comfy flight?”

Steve smiles, knows Tony loves to show off. “It was fine, Tony. This is Sam Wilson, and Bucky Barnes.”

Tony shakes Sam’s hand, then turns to Bucky to do the same. “Welcome back, Soldier.” Bucky’s smile is a little strained, but he mumbles a thanks. “This way, boys. They’re waiting inside.”

They follow Tony into the tower to an elevator. “JARVIS, 40th floor please.”

“Yes, sir,” The AI responds. Sam and Bucky look impressed and Steve catches Tony’s smirk, The ride is so smooth Steve isn’t sure they’ve moved, but the doors slide open and reveal Fury, Natasha, and Clint. Tony leads them into the room and they sit around a large kitchen table.

“Drinks?” Tony offers. He doesn’t wait for an answer before cracking open beers and passing them out. He settles into his chair.

“Where’s Banner and Thor?” Steve asks, noticing their missing teammates.

“Uganda and Asgard, respectively,” Barton answers. “We’ll debrief them later.”

“So, what’s the story?” Sam asks, taking a drink of his beer. “Some bad guys trying to take over the world or something?”

“Nothing yet,” Fury starts. “But I think it’s time we start talking about what to do with SHIELD.”

“I thought SHIELD was done,” Steve says. He made that pretty clear before they took down the helicarriers.

Fury looks mildly annoyed by this, but continues. “What’s left, then. We just wanted to make sure everyone was on board. Start something fresh. Get organized.”

“Just some structure,” Natasha interjects.

“At least we know that this room is HYDRA free, right?” Tony says, but he’s looking at Bucky. Steve narrows his eyes but Natasha kicking him under the table tells him not to take the bait.

“Yeah, we do,” Sam speaks up, arms crossed and looking right at Tony. Steve smiles proudly.

Fury looks exhausted by all of them. “We’re all in, then,” Fury says with finality. “Romanoff and Barton are looking into possible active HYDRA cells. Barnes took care of quite a few, but there are more. Any information you’d be willing to give us would be helpful, Sergeant.”

Bucky nods, but Steve can sense his unease. He doesn’t like it either, but he knows Bucky will want to help. Steve just hopes that isn’t at his own expense.

“Good,” Fury continues. There is one more thing we should discuss. Barton?” He turns to Clint, who tosses a gossip magazine onto the table. Steve leans forward to see, and there’s a picture of him and Bucky at the club, grainy but obviously them. The headline reads, Captain America: Stars and Stripes or The Rainbow Flag? The small print underneath says, Does America’s Golden Boy Have a Boy of His Own?

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky says, then laughs. “Well, I guess I should have known, going out with a celebrity and all.”

Steve can feel heat prickling his face. It hadn’t even occurred to him… and he doesn’t even care that they’re implying he’s gay, he doesn’t. Partially because it’s true. He’s more upset that his privacy was violated, that Bucky’s was. He pulls the magazine close and flips to the article. He doesn’t read it, knows it’ll be speculation and liable. But he looks at the other photos, of them dancing, of Bucky’s hand twisted in Steve’s shirt. He doesn’t know how long he’s been silently looking at it, but Bucky’s voice startles him a bit.

“Sorry, Steve. I should have thought-“

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he says easily. “No shame in it, if that’s what they want to think.”

“Just so we’re clear, this is my new favorite thing,” Tony adds, pulling the magazine to him. “And at least your fake boyfriend is hot, right?”

Bucky snorts, and Steve tries not to smile because it’s bad to encourage Tony, but he can’t help it. Sam’s eyebrows are in his hairline but he’s grinning.

“You make a cute couple,” Natasha teases, trying to be straight faced.

“I think we should celebrate this new union. Dinner? On me, of course. Pepper will be home soon, she’ll want to see you guys. Rogers, you lived in this city a million years ago. Wanna see if any of your old places still exist? I can have someone pick it up.” Tony slides one of his tablets toward Steve.

“We should get back-“ he starts to argue. He feels a little embarrassed, and a lot uneasy. He feels like his dirty little secret is about to surface, they might be able to figure him out. He wants to get out of here before someone sees that it’s not just an article accusing him of being in love with Bucky.

“No dice, Cap. I have guest rooms already set up, and the chopper is scheduled back tomorrow morning. Come on, one night. Super hero sleepover.”

Steve looks at Sam, who just shrugs, then to Bucky. Bucky looks a little nervous, but kind of amused at the prospect. 

Natasha pipes in, “I did miss out on slumber parties, what with being a brainwashed assassin…”

“Fine,” he concedes, taking to the tablet. “I hope you guys like pizza, because I’m calling Grimaldi’s.”

Bucky lights up a little, and Steve knew he would. That’s why he chose it. They always went to Grimaldi’s when they could scrape together enough money after a night out, usually after Steve’s date finally convinced Bucky’s they needed to leave.

“That place still exists?” Bucky asks hopefully.

“It’s an American institution, Buck. Of course.”

“Great, good. Get pepperoni. Something spicy for Pepper. Here,” Tony flips a credit card in Steve’s direction. “On me, like I said. I’ll have someone pick it up.”

“Pretty sure they deliver,” Steve says, taking Stark’s card.

Tony waves his hand. “No thanks. Don’t like strangers at my door. Call it in, Cap.”

Steve goes into the hall to place the order and when he comes back in, Tony, Bucky and Clint are speaking quietly in the corner of the room. A protective surge goes through Steve and he starts to walk quickly over when Natasha stops him with a hand on his arm.

“It’s fine,” she says calmly.

“Doesn’t look fine,” Steve replies through gritted teeth. They’re speaking too quietly for him to hear, but Bucky has his arms crossed over his chest, hugging himself, and Tony looks intense. Clint stands almost between them, like he’s trying to keep the peace.

“They have to talk about it eventually,” Natasha says, and Steve looks at her.

“Talk about what?”

“Howard. And Maria.”

Steve’s stomach drops. Shit. He’d forgot about what Zola had insinuated. Accidents do happen. “Fuck,” Steve mutters.

Natasha looks amused. “A gay bar and profanity? What happened to America’s hero?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but is grateful for the joke, it breaks the tension a bit. “Why does everyone think I’m some blushing virgin?”

“Because you are?” Steve feels the heat in his cheeks and Natasha laughs, but not cruelly. “See?”

~

The pizza is as good as Bucky remembers, he keeps telling them. Steve loves to see him so excited about it, especially after the intense conversation he had with Tony. There’s a lingering tension, but Steve doesn’t have a chance to talk to Bucky about it before Tony is showing them to their guest rooms. Steve is pretty tired; it’s been a long day, especially after all the quiet days he’s had lately. They hadn’t been planning on staying, but of course Tony has toothbrushes and towels and pajamas if they want them.

Steve’s room is huge and has a bathroom inside. The bed is a king sized, with softer sheets than Steve knew existed. There’s a tv mounted to the wall across from the bed. It’s huge, and Steve looks for the remote, wants to watch something mindless to decompress.

“May I help you, Sir?”

Steve startles for a moment. He always forgets about Tony’s AI. “Hey JARVIS. Um. Can you turn the TV on?”

“Of course, Air. Any channel in particular?”

“The news I guess?”

“Certainly, Sir.”

The TV flickers on to the local news. Steve isn’t paying much attention as he strips down to his underwear and climbs into the bed. He’s starting to doze but he jerks his head up when he hears his name.

“…spotted at a Washington DC night club known for it’s homosexual clientele. It’s uncertain at this point is Rogers himself is gay, but sources close to the Avenger have opted not to comment.”

Sources close to him? Steve doesn’t even know who they would have contacted, but he suspects it’s bullshit. “JARVIS?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Turn it off, please.”

“Certainly, Sir.”

The TV shuts off and Steve lays back down. He’s ready to go home. 

~

Steve sits up suddenly, pulled from sleep. There was a noise, something that’s woken him. It takes him a second to figure out where he is, and another for his eyes to focus on the shadow in the doorway.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he hears Bucky’s voice.

Steve’s heart rate slowly settles. “Bad dreams?”

Bucky comes into the room and stands next to the bed. He nods. “Yeah. Uh, Howard-“ his voice cuts out abruptly and he clears his throat. “I, uh…” 

Steve’s heart clenches and he reaches out and grabs Bucky’s hand, pulls him down to sit on the bed. “It’s okay, Buck.”

“Is it?” He sounds a little frantic, his voice wavering. “I’m pretty sure people keep telling me that and it’s bullshit.” He’s gotten louder and panicky. He looks wild, eyes wide and darting, worrying his lower lip between his teeth.

Steve tugs him forward into his arms, hugging him. It’s the first time he’s hugged him since he pulled him of Zola’s table. It feels fine, practiced, natural. But the realization that it’s been that long unsettles Steve a bit.

“Bucky, listen to me. They used you, they’re the ones who did those things through you, you didn’t-“

“It was Howard, Steve!” Bucky cries. Steve can feel the tears against his neck where Bucky’s face is pressed. “I knew him, and then I killed him!”

Steve doesn’t know what else to do, so he squeezes Bucky tighter. This is what he thought it would be like, when (if) Bucky came back. That he’d be torn apart, and Steve would have to try to fix him. But Bucky had been doing so well, Steve was starting to wonder when he would break, if he ever actually did. Now that he has, Steve would do absolutely anything to stop it.

Steve can’t think of anything to say, and he hates himself for it. He got so comfortable with Bucky’s progress that he hadn’t made a plan for this. He lets Bucky cry against him, let’s him shake and sob. He pets Bucky’s hair, but doesn’t try to quiet him. Thinks it’s maybe better to let him get it out.

He does, eventually, putter out. He pulls away from Steve and sniffles, but won’t meet Steve’s eyes. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t-“

“Stop apologizing to me. You never have to do that, okay?” Steve says, deadly serious.

“What if I steal your date, or break your art pencils?” Bucky jokes, his voice rough. Steve could sometimes be quick to anger, especially with Bucky. The product of living so close to someone for so long. Bucky never took it personally, but Steve always felt like an ass after an outburst.

“You won’t do that again. Anyway, I don’t date or draw really so-“

“You don’t draw anymore?” Bucky looks at him then, a little horrified.

Steve shrugs. “Not much inspiration these days. Don’t worry about it.”

“I should let you sleep,” Bucky says, but doesn’t move.

“Here,” Steve says, scooting to one side of the bed to make room.

“Steve-“

“Don’t argue with me, you know I’m a stubborn bastard.” Bucky snorts but slides into the sheets. Steve rolls Bucky onto his side, facing away, and curls up behind him. Bucky wriggles a little under Steve’s arm. “Knock it off and let me spoon you. It’s comforting. You used to do it for me all the time.”

“Thought you were gonna freeze to death,” Bucky mumbles, sounding sleepy.

“Can’t anymore, proved it. 70 years on the rocks.”

“This isn’t gonna help the rumors of our illicit romance.”

Steve holds his breath for just a second. “Let them talk.”

~

When Steve wakes up, Bucky is gone. Steve has no idea what time it is. For all the gadgets and amenities in the room, there’s no clock.

“JARVIS?” he says nervously, like he might wake up the AI. Which is silly, he realizes.

“Yes, Sir?”

“What time is it?”

“It’s 7:30 in the morning, Sir.”

“Why is it so dark?”

“The windows are darkened for optimal sleeping. Would you like to lighten the tinting, Sir?”

“Yeah,” Steve answers, and the watches as the windows gradually let the morning in. “Can you tell me where Bucky is?”

“Sergeant Barnes is in the research and development lab with Mr. Stark, Sir.”

Steve jolts out of bed, panic rising in him. “For how long?”

“About 40 minutes, Sir.”

Steve races to get dressed, doesn’t bother brushing his hair or teeth. He presses the door open and runs into Natasha, leaning casually against the wall across the hall. She’s been waiting for him.

“Morning.”

“I need to get-“

“Relax,” she tells him. “He’s fine. Stark’s looking at his arm.”

“And that’s fine?” Steve almost shouts. “Bucky - he wasn’t doing so well last night, and-“

“Steve,” Natasha interrupts. She waits until he gives her his full attention. “He’s fine. He asked Tony to look at it.”

Steve’s heart is thundering in his chest, and he tries to process what Natasha’s told him. “He did?”

“Yes,” she answers. “C’mon, I’ll take you.” She starts walking slowly down the hall. Steve wants to run, but forces himself to keep her pace. “So, does he know?”

“Know what?” Steve asks distractedly, trying to imagine what Tony might be doing to Bucky’s arm, why Bucky would ask him to look at it.

“That you’re in love with him.”

Steve feels like he’s been punched in the stomach. How can she know? No one knows! She can read him, yeah, but he’s been so careful about Bucky. That was the one thing that was his, his one secret. He can’t breath and he’s stopped walking. His legs feel like jello, his throat is dry. He needs to say something, to deny it. “I - I don’t-“

“Steve, please.”

“I’m not-“ She raises and eyebrow and he deflates. “Well, shit. How long have you known?”

“The Strike Team van.”

Steve’s eyes go wide and he blinks helplessly at her. “Are you kidding me?”

She smiles kindly at him. “It’s my job, you know. To notice things. Look for weaknesses.”

“What?”

“He’s your weakness, Steve. HYDRA knew it, I know it.”

Steve kind of wants to throw up. “Well who else knows it?” he forces out.

“Barton,” she answers easily, and Steve looks helplessly at her. “I’m guessing Wilson, but I haven’t talked to him about it. He seems perceptive.” Steve leans back against the wall, trying to get his bearings. Natasha leans next to him. “You should tell him.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve says, closing his eyes. “And why’s that?”

“Same reason anyone does it. To find out if they feel the same.”

Steve laughs humorlessly. “Thanks for the advice, Nat. But I don’t think it’s worth it. Bucky wants something, he takes it. Always has.” He turns his head and opens his eyes, looks down at her.

Natasha shrugs. “Your call. Come on, let’s get to the lab before Tony puts JARVIS in your boyfriend’s arm.”

Steve laughs dizzily, appreciates that she lets it go. He follows her down the hall to an elevator. He’s on autopilot, thinking over all his actions, ways he’s given himself away, ways he can bury it deeper so no one will see.

They arrive at a door and Natasha pulls the handle, but it doesn’t give.

“I’m sorry, Miss Romanoff, but you do not have access to this area,” JARVIS says.

“Huh,” Natasha replies, then starts typing into the key panel by the door. It buzzes “ERROR” three times before the lock disengages and she smirks, pulling it open. Steve is always in awe of how damn smart she is, and how she’s often humble about it.

“…would keep it from seizing up, I’d guess,” he hears Tony say as they walk through the door to the lab. He looks over and sees them. “Ah, Agent Romanoff, should have known. JARVIS, change the passcode to the lab, please. Little harder this time.”

“Yes, Sir,” JARVIS answers, and Steve swears the AI sounds shamed.

“Cap, just tinkering on your boy’s arm here. This tech is crazy!”

“You okay?” Steve asks Bucky, ignoring Tony for a second.

“Yeah,” Bucky says easily from where he’s seated next to Tony’s monitors. The lab is huge, full of blinking lights and robots. Bucky spins back and forth on his stool. There’s a 3D image of his arm in the air above him, and Tony follows Steve’s eye to it.

“Pretty neat, huh? Well, it’ll be better after the upgrades. My upgrades,” Tony grins. Steve raises his eyebrows at him. “Nothing shady, just… less buggy. Maybe put a repulser in it-“

“Ah, Tony, I appreciate that, but-“ Bucky tries before Tony cuts him off.

“No no, don’t knock it til you try it. Anyway, hey, we’ll talk about it, right?” Tony smiles.

Steve is glad they seem to be getting along, especially after yesterday, and last night. Bucky slides off the stool and grabs his shirt off the table next to him. “We good for now?” he asks.

“For now,” Tony agrees, getting lost in thought already, approaching the scan of Bucky’s arm. “Let me know how those upgrades work and how… other things go,” he finishes awkwardly, not really attempting to cover the weirdness.

“Other stuff?” Steve asks, and Tony dismisses it with a wave of his hand.

“You have my number. Pepper’s making crepes on level 44, go say hi, eat some french stuff. Have a good flight, blah blah blah.” Tony reaches into the image in front of him and pulls pieces of the design towards him.

“You’re not coming?“ Natasha asks.

“Busy,” Tony tells her absently.

“You two go ahead, I’ve got to brief him,” she tells Steve and Bucky.

Bucky shrugs and goes to the door, makes his way to the elevator.

“Other stuff?” Steve repeats, this time to Bucky.

“Who knows, with Stark,” Bucky answers vaguely. 

Steve decides to let it go. “So, you guys okay? I mean… you know what I mean,” Steve stumbles.

Bucky chuckles. “Yeah, I… I thought I’d go see him, maybe smooth things over.”

“And that went well?” The elevator doors open on the 44th floor.

“Yeah,” Bucky says over his shoulder. “Got him talking shop, told him he could look at my arm. Like Christmas for a guy like themn” Bucky gets quiet. “He reminds me of Howard that way.”

Steve bumps their shoulders together. They follow the smell of food cooking to large kitchen down the hall. Pepper is at the stove top with Clint by her side.

“And that’s all there is to it. Gentle hands. You could do it, you’re so steady,” Pepper says to him. Clint pushes up to sit on the counter and looks up as Steve and Bucky come in.

“You guys just missed the tutorial.”

Pepper turns, meets Steve halfway to hug him. “Steve! It’s great to see you.” She steps back and turns to Bucky. “This must be Sergeant Barnes. It’s an honor to finally meet you.” She offers her hand and Bucky kisses the top of it, smiling. Steve loves Pepper, loves that she doesn’t treat Bucky like he was a threat, like he is anything other than a soldier that was MIA and now recovered. Pepper might be the very best thing about Tony.

“Pleasure’s mine.”

She looks at Steve, grinning. “You never told me he was so charming.”

“Old habits die hard. Stand down, Soldier. She’s with Tony,” Steve teases.

Bucky raises his hands in an surrendering gesture. “Hey, I was just trying to sweet talk her into another crepe lesson.”

Pepper links her arm with Bucky’s and walks him to the stove. “I’d be delighted, Tony never wants to learn.”

Clint and Steve eat about eight crepes each while Bucky learns how to perfect the method. Sam comes in looking sleepy eyed about 30 minutes later and Pepper and Bucky are thrilled to heat the pan again and make too many more.

~

Steve visits Peggy every week if he can. Some days are better than others, sometimes she’s still got that biting wit that he fell in love with. It doesn’t hurt anymore, that he never got a chance with her. If he’s honest, it’s since Bucky’s been back. He stupidly has hung his hope that Bucky will be enough. Even if he can never have him the way he wants, he’ll still have something.

Steve checks in at the front desk of the hospice facility. The nurses all know him, and they love him. One of them, Laura, flirts pretty shamelessly with him, and he pretends not to notice. It’s easier than turning her down out right. Steve take a seat in the waiting area until someone comes to lead him to Peggy’s room.

“Steve!” she says happily when he comes through the door. That’s a good sign.

“Peggy,” he answers warmly, leaning in to hug her. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know. Living the high life,” she jokes, gesturing around the room. “And you?”

“Not bad. Just got back from New York.” He takes a seat next to her bed and the nurse slips out, closing the door.

“Oh! Did you see Howard’s son?” she asks. She always calls Tony that.

“Yeah, stayed at the Hotel Stark and everything.”

“Any looming threat I need to know about?”

“Nah, you don’t have to worry, you know that.” He takes her hand.

“Steve, is there something you want to tell me?”

He catches her gaze and she’s smirking at him, but he’s not sure why. “What do you mean?”

She pulls her hand away to turn and grab something off her bedside table. She passes him the magazine, with him and Bucky on the cover.

“Oh. Ah, that.” He can feel himself blushing. He knows he should explain what he was doing at a gay bar, maybe he should tell her that he is, in fact, gay. Or whatever he is. “I didn’t know it was a gay bar. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Obviously. I mean. I guess I might be a little… yanno…”

“That’s not what I meant,” Peggy saves him from his stumbling, but what she says just confuses him more. It must show on his face, because she continues. “Isn’t this Sergeant Barnes?”

Oh.

“Um. Okay. I guess I have a lot to tell you.”

Steve tells her everything, because she’s having a good day and she wants to know. He hadn’t told her about Bucky before, didn’t want to dump all of his problems on her. Didn’t want her to worry about the Winter Soldier being at large, a threat. He tells her about HYDRA capturing Bucky after the fall, about the his finding out the Winter Soldier was Bucky, about the Potomac. She looks a little sad that he hadn’t told her before, and he regrets it. Decides never to keep things from her because he thinks she can’t handle it. Truth is, she handles it better than he does any day of the week.

“I didn’t want to upset you, so many things.”

“Steve, I’m made of stronger stuff than that and you know it. He’s recovered, then? That’s wonderful.”

“Yeah, it is,” Steve says, and he knows it sounds a little sad, but he hopes she doesn’t notice, because that’s something he doesn’t want to explain.

“Steve,” she starts sternly, and she has noticed. “It’s all right. I knew back then, and I know now.”

“Knew what?” he asks, completely confused. It seems to be his default setting lately.

“That you’re in love with him. But it doesn’t hurt me that you’re together. I lived my life, had another love. I won’t begrudge you to have the same. You deserve it. I’m just glad you finally found the courage to tell him.”

Steve’s jaw is hanging open, and he feels embarrassed and wounded. “Peggy, I - we’re not together.”

“But… the magazine-“

“It’s not what it looks like, I guess.”

She stares at him, trying to read him and figure him out. “You haven’t told him.”

“Jesus, is it that obvious?”

She smiles kindly, taking his hand again. “Steve, you should tell him.”

He laughs a little bitterly. “You’re not the first person to say so. You know I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t chance it”

“Steve, please don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re one of the most foolish people I’ve met. You don’t always think things through, and you take unnecessary risks all of the time. You jump without thinking, without looking. You’re brave almost to a fault.”

“Thanks?”

“Oh, you know what I mean. You know it. Is this the one thing you’re afraid to do?”

Steve purses his lips, does what he always has and lives with the longing and the pain. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

Peggy’s smile gets a little sad but she squeezes his hand. “Fair enough.”

~

Steve is always a little tired after visiting Peggy. She knows him too well, asks the tough questions, things he avoids thinking about. It’s late afternoon by the time he makes it home, the sun slipping low behind the tall buildings of DC. It casts warm light and shadows through the apartment and Bucky is laying across the couch, reading through something on one of Stark’s tablets.

“Where did you get that?” Steve asks as he shuts the door behind him. He grabs a square of open couch next to Bucky’s feet.

“I may have appropriated it during our visit,” Bucky replies mischievously.

“So Tony didn’t give it to you?” Steve can hear the lecturing tone of his voice, but can never seem to help that.

“Not exactly.”

“You should really have asked-“

Bucky cuts him short. “He already called. Tracked it. Said I could keep it.”

“You guys seemed to get along all right.”

Bucky shrugs, eyes still on the tablet. “Guess so.”

“I mean, you had a pretty rough night at his place, so-“

“I got over it,” Bucky says shortly.

Steve’s brow furrows. He doesn’t know what he’s said, but it seems to have pissed Bucky off. “Did I say something wrong?”

Bucky sits up and pulls away. “Forget it.”

“Hey, I’m sorry if-“

Bucky turns off the tablet and stands. “Just, don’t, okay? I don’t know why you can’t just accept that I’m doing all right!”

Steve has to take a minute to absorb what Bucky said, and he’s still confused. Bucky might be all right 90% of the time, but what happened at Stark Tower is the opposite of all right. Still, if that’s what Bucky thinks, then that’s what Steve will respect. “What? Of course I accept-“

“You keep asking if I’m okay, looking for something to be wrong with me. I’m fine, Steve. It’s just me, Bucky, I’m the same guy-“

“I never said-“

“It’s like you want me to be broken. Well, I’m not. I’m not the one who has nightmares almost every single night. Do you even know that you do? Every night, I can hear you-“ Bucky stops. He huffs out a sigh, but it does nothing to relieve the visible tension. Bucky moves to the door and slips on his shoes, starts pulling on his coat.

“Where are you going?” Steve asks, standing quickly. 

“Out. I need some space,” Bucky snaps, the door banging shut behind him.

Steve feels frantic. He wants to chase Bucky down, apologize or… or whatever it takes. But he knows that will probably just make it worse. He picks up the tablet and turns the screen on to see what Bucky was looking at. 

A video is on the screen and Steve taps the play button. Footage from one of the helicarriers. Steve sliding down to the ground, blood soaking the front of his uniform.

Bucky says he’s just fine.

~

Steve doesn’t have to worry for long about where Bucky’s gone. He gets a text from Natasha:

Barnes with me. Don’t worry.

Steve calls her.

“Jesus, Rogers. I said don’t worry,” Natasha sighs into the phone.

“Sorry, I just-“

“He’s fine, Steve. You’re lucky I stepped into the hall, if he knew you were calling he’d be pretty mad.”

Steve paces, his cell pressed into his ear. “I just… if he doesn’t want to come back, I get it. I’ll get him a new place, or whatever he wants, I’ll-“

“Cap,” Natasha interrupts sternly to stop his rambling. “He’s fine. Give him a few hours, I’m sure he’ll be back by tonight. Or he’ll crash here. Doesn’t matter, he can take care of himself.”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “What if something-“

“Goodbye, Steve,” she says, disconnecting.

At least Steve knows he’s safe, he’s with somebody they can trust. Bucky seems fine, but what if something triggers him out in the world, what if something happens to his memory suddenly and he forgets who he is, or where he is, or forgets Steve again?

He tries to distract himself, but he ends up just staring past his computer screen, past the tv, past a book. He walks into Bucky’s room - he’s not snooping, he’s not. He won’t open any drawers or anything. He looks around, then sits on Bucky’s bed and puts his head in his hands. What the hell does he think he’s doing? He can’t control Bucky, that makes him just as bad as Pierce. He’s just having a hard time believing that, after everything, Bucky isn’t struggling.

Steve is struggling, feels like he can barely keep his head above water some days. He has enough bad memories to last a lifetime, and Bucky has at least twice that many. He just wants to help, but maybe he’s projecting his own weakness on Bucky.

He lays down on Bucky’s bed, can smell Bucky’s shampoo on his pillow. No one is here to hide it from, so he twists his face into it and presses his eyes closed.

~

Steve wakes with a start. Someone is in his house. He can hear them, even though they’re trying to sneak in. He’s in Bucky’s bed still, his shield is in his room. He stands and walks silently to the door, peers around the frame.

He sighs in relief when he sees Bucky, in one piece but leaning against the couch for support.

“You startled me,” he says quietly. Bucky doesn’t respond and fear blooms in Steve. Bucky must be hurt, that’s why he’s not standing on his own. “What happened?”

Bucky waves his hand erratically. “Nothin’. M’fine,” he slurs.

Okay, drunk then. Drunk is better than injured. “You’re drunk.” Steve realizes it’s stupid to say right after, makes him sound judgmental. 

Bucky starts laughing, loose and a little crazy, and it makes Steve uneasy. There’s something almost bitter about it. “I am. Very observant.” He struggles to tap his finger to his nose. He tries to walk farther into the house, away from the couch, but stumbles. Steve is at his side almost instantly, supporting his weight. He slings Bucky’s arm over his shoulder. “Steve,” he says gratefully, and it sounds just like it had when he pulled him off Zola’s table. Steve schools his features so Bucky won’t see the heartbreak written all over his face.

“I’m here, Buck. I got ya,” Steve reassures, placing a hand on Bucky’s chest to steady him. 

Bucky leans in to him. “Take me to bed.” He’s looking Steve right in the eye, and Steve feels like his insides are electric. There’s heat in Bucky’s look, and Steve knows what he wants to read there. How many times has he done this, seen something that just wasn’t there, let himself stupidly believe that Bucky could ever-

“I got ya,” he repeats, helping Bucky to his room. He settles him on the bed, where he’d been sleeping just minutes ago. He pulls off Bucky’s shoes and throws the blanket over him.

“No, this isn’t it,” Bucky mumbles.

“What?” Steve asks. Isn’t what?

Bucky’s only response is a loud snore.

~

Steve lets Bucky sleep late, he tries to be quiet so he won’t wake him. He goes for a run by himself to clear his head, but it backfires by giving him too much time to think about what Bucky had accused him of. Did he want Bucky to be broken? Why would he? What had Bucky meant last night when he said this isn’t it?

Bucky’s still out when Steve gets back so he showers, makes coffee, and has some cereal. He’s reading the news headlines on his laptop when Bucky stumbles out of his room.

“Morning,” he greets quietly.

Bucky wrinkles his nose. “Is it still? Felt like I slept forever.” His hair is sticking up all over and he has crease marks from his pillow case on his cheek.

“I made coffee. If that might help.”

Bucky nods, helps himself to cupful, and sits across from Steve. He’s still in last night’s clothes, wrinkled and stretched out of shape.

“So,” Steve starts, and Bucky winces. Well, this already going smoothy. “We need - I need to talk. About yesterday.”

“Don’t you have Sam for that?” Steve thinks maybe Bucky is trying to tease him, but it comes out a little mean and Steve deflates a little. This is already going to be miserable, and apparently Bucky is still pissed at him.

He pushes forward. “You’re right; about me, not really accepting that you’re doing okay.” Bucky looks surprised, and apparently he hadn’t been expecting that. “It’s not that I don’t want you to be in as good a place as you are. I mean, you’re my best friend. Well you were, obviously, if you don’t want to - anyway, I’m getting off topic here. I want you to be recovered, and healthy. I just. I thought I’d be there for that, be able to help you. And saying it out loud makes me realize how shitty it is. You’re also right that I’m not doing so good, Buck. I act like I am, but I’m not, I’m struggling. It makes me a little jealous, how well you’re doing, without me, and-“

“Stop,” Bucky cuts in, his eyes closed. He holds up a hand to emphasize the word. He breaths out slowly through his nose. “Steve, you unbelievable idiot.” Steve pulls a face but, before he can talk, Bucky continues. “Of course I wanted you to be there. You were the only damn thing that felt safe at first. Natasha had to tie me down to keep me from leaving the farm, looking for you. Literally. Ask her. She kept telling me it’d be easier with my head clear, without having you there.”

Steve blinks. Natasha hadn’t told him that. He knows she made the right call, somewhere deep down. “I, uh. She never told me.”

“She also said you didn’t need more to deal with than you already were. That’s when she got through to me, was able to untie me. I knew I had fucked up, Steve. I couldn’t think past getting to you, trying to make up for all the horrible shit I’d done.”

“Bucky, it wasn’t your fault-“

“I still shot you,” Bucky whispers, sounding horrified. “I could have killed you. I didn’t know if I still might try-“ his voice breaks a little and he clears his throat. “I’m not doing great, Steve. Okay? I thought it would hurt you less, if I could just act like my old self, if I didn’t remind you what had happened…”

“Bucky, I’m never going to hold that against you. Not ever.” He hears the waver in his own voice and takes a second to calm himself. “I trust you with my life. I don’t want you to have to pretend anything around me.”

Bucky wipes his eyes quickly on his sleeve. “I was your best friend?” His voice is quiet and it devastates Steve. He’s not going to cry, he’s not, he is going to stay strong for Bucky for this one moment.

“You are. Always have been, always will be. If that’s what you want.”

Bucky wipes his eyes again and nods. He shakes his head a little to clear it. “Jesus. Okay. Let’s go to the VA. Let’s go see Sam.”

~

“Fury has an assignment. Nothing major, just some recon. Backup might not be a terrible idea,” Natasha’s voice says through the phone.

“Where at?”

“Philly. Suspected HYDRA base. He doesn’t want to move on it yet til he knows for sure.”

Steve is pacing in the kitchen, not out of concern, he’s just always been a phone pacer. Bucky is watching him from the couch, pretending to read on his tablet. Well, Stark’s tablet. “Who’s on the team?”

“You, me, Barnes, Wilson. Hill will be in the sky in case trouble shows up.”

“When?”

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning, take you to the Quinjet.”

“Got it.”

Steve disconnects the call and turns to Bucky. Things have been quiet since last week, when they’d both admitted they needed some help. They went to Sam’s group, and had plans to go weekly. Steve wasn’t ready to talk about anything in front of them yet, neither was Bucky. But they’d come home after and talked a bit between them.

Steve felt more settled, but he got the impression it was having the opposite effect on Bucky. It seemed pretending to be okay was easier for him than dealing with what had happened. Steve couldn’t blame him; after what HYDRA had put him through, forgetting might have been preferable.

“So,” Bucky says, setting down the tablet. “What’s the story?”

“Recon, tomorrow in Philly. You up for it?” Steve doesn’t want to imply Bucky might not be able to handle it, but he worries that he might not. He can’t say that though, he knows Bucky will get defensive and he doesn’t want that.

“Of course!” Bucky smiles, and he seems excited about it. Steve thinks maybe that’s good, because Bucky hasn’t been excited about much lately. But it also worries him - maybe being a weapon is really all he knows how to do anymore.

~

Steve had texted Sam with the info so Sam shows up, bright and early, to Steve’s apartment. Bucky has, as usual, made breakfast. Steve suspects that’s the reason Sam is so early, because he loves “accidentally” catching Bucky’s meals.

There’s a knock on the door half an hour later and Steve lets Natasha in. She peers over to the stove, where there are plenty of scrambled eggs and pieces of bacon left.

“Nat, would you like-“

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to-“

“Natasha,” Bucky says, sternly but teasing, “every super spy needs a healthy breakfast.”

She grins at him and grabs a plate, eating quickly so they can get going. She debriefs them further in the car on the way to where the Quinjet waits.

“It looks like a small operation, mostly research. Not sure what they’re studying, but I’m betting it’s nothing good.”

“How many?” Steve asks. He feels like he should be suiting up, but since this is just recon, laying low and blending in is a better alternative. They’re all wearing hoodies, ready to disappear into a crowd if needed.

“About a dozen science officers, only four on security that we know about. Wouldn’t be surprised if there are more, though. We just want to get an idea of their layout, what kind of detail they have on the doors.”

“They haven’t bulked up security since we derailed Insight?” Sam asks from the passenger seat. 

Bucky’s eyes flick around the car quickly, and Steve thinks maybe he looks guilty. It seems like a lot of HYDRA missions make Bucky feel that way. “Arrogant, as always,” he mutters.

Natasha catches him in the rearview mirror. “I don’t think they know you’re alive necessarily.”

“How can they not, after Europe?” Steve asks in surprise.

“Well, you and Sam one step behind. I’m betting they thought it was you two.”

“And security would be higher if-“

“They knew it was him,” Natasha finishes for Sam. “You’re a real threat to them, Barnes. They’re terrified of you.”

Bucky snorts humorlessly. “Good.”

Steve feels uneasy. Bucky is tense, his jaw clenched, eyes fixed.. Maybe it was too soon for him to get involved in this. Maybe he’s already too involved for that to matter much.

~

On the jet, Hill has updated files for them to look over, and they do in silence. Steve sits near Bucky, hoping his presence will help keep him calm and focused. It seems the research they’re working on is mind control based, and reading their methods gives Steve the chills. Electric shock. Drug therapy. Torture.

Bucky looks like he might throw up.

“You don’t have to-“ Steve starts quietly.

“Yeah, I do. I have to do something,” Bucky corrects.

“Not today. Just information today, right?”

“I’m not gonna go crazy and kill everyone, Steve,” Bucky snaps. Steve holds up his hands apologetically. “Sorry. I’m just… it’s a lot.”

Steve squeezes his shoulder. “I know.”

~

“Natasha, you and Sam take the front. Bucky and I will take the rear,” Steve says after Maria drops them half a mile from the building. They make a quick, quiet approach on foot, using surrounding buildings for shelter. The target looks like an abandoned warehouse amongst many others. Steve suspects that the others are empty, probably by HYDRA design.

“I’ve been here,” Bucky says quietly as they approach, and Steve freezes. He turns to Bucky, who is pale and looks scared.

“Bucky-“

“I’m fine. It’s… they kept me here. For a while.”

Steve wants to charge in, guns blazing, and kill every single person inside. He feels anger rising up, almost choking him. He wants to burn down everything that has anything to do with HYDRA. He wants-

“Steve.” Bucky pulls him from his thoughts. “Don’t. It’s okay.”

“Don’t what?” Steve growls.

“I know that look. This is just recon, we-“

“So let’s take a look around,” Steve says defiantly, busting the lock on the back door.

“We’re not supposed to engage-“

“Stay here if you’re so worried about it.” Bucky pulls back, giving him a look. Steve shakes his head. “I’m just going to have a look around.” He slips into the dark hallway before Bucky can argue any further.

It’s a long way down and in, and Steve can barely see without any light, but he won’t risk using one. He readjusts his grip on his shield when he hears voices echoing along the corridor.

“…but without the regenerative properties, no one would be able to survive-“

“And what am I paying you for, if not to make them survive?”

“We don’t have Zola’s notes, we don’t know what he used-“

“But you have the Soldier’s blood, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, but-“

“Are you telling me that you can’t extract it from that? They told me you were one of the best geneticists in the world.”

“We’re working on it, Sir. But I don’t know when-“

“You have three weeks, Doctor. If you can’t figure it out by then, I will inject you with whatever you do have and test it on you.”

“Yes, S-sir.”

There’s a pinch in Steve’s neck, a needle. Someone has snuck up on him, someone has-

The voices sound far off and he sways, then he passes out.

~ 

Steve comes to in the Quinjet. He’s strapped into one of the seats, and Bucky is across from him, wringing his hands nervously.

“Wh-what happened?” he asks groggily.

Natasha is immediately in his face, and obviously furious. “What the hell were you thinking?!?” Steve doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t give him time to, anyway. “This was recon, you could have compromised the whole operation. If Barnes hadn’t called it in to me, you could have blown our cover completely!”

Steve looks at Bucky, but he won’t meet his eyes. “I was just-“

“Trying to take on HYDRA alone? Trying to get the rest of us killed?”

Steve feels guilt wash over him. He hadn’t thought about that. All he could think about was revenge, about Bucky being tortured. He quietly asks, “How did you get me away from them? They drugged me-“

“Bullshit. I drugged you. Barnes radioed, I had to leave Sam on point and knock you out,” she bites out, holding up her arm to indicate her Widow Bites.

“I wasn’t trying-“

“Steve,” she interrupts, sitting next to him. Her tone is calmer, sympathetic. It makes him feel even worse. “I get it. But if you’re compromised, I’m going to have to pull you off of this.”

Steve purses his lips; he feels like an admonished child, and he knows he deserves it. He would have been furious if the situation was reversed. “I’ll be okay. Really.”

She looks him up and down, then nods. He can tell she doesn’t completely believe him, and he doesn’t blame her. He’s not sure either. “Good. Now tell me what you heard.”

~

“So they’re trying to duplicate the serum?” Bucky asks, pinching the bridge of his nose. They’re sitting around the table in Fury’s safe house.

“That’s what it sounded like,” Steve confirms.

“We can’t let that happen,” Fury says matter-of-factly. “Romanoff, what were you able to get before our little slip up?” Steve’s cheeks burn with shame at the implication.

“Easy to penetrate, low security. Should be an easy in and out. It would probably be good to collect any information they have. Maybe take the science team alive for questioning.”

“How long do you need to pull a plan together?”

Fury’s question is directed at Steve, which surprises him a bit after what happened. “Uh, maybe a day. Then we can move.”

Fury nods. “You’ll have Hill and Barton. I can call Stark-“

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Natasha interrupts. Steve isn’t sure why, having Tony on board would make things easier. Although he’s not much for subtlety. “We can use his help on the files after.”

“Make it happen. Report back when it’s complete,” Fury instructs.

Natasha leads Bucky and Steve out. “Talk to Wilson, text me the timeline. I’ll let Hill know.” She looks at Steve like she’s trying to read him, and knowing her, she already has.

Steve and Bucky get into Steve’s car and Steve starts driving toward the apartment.

“Steve-“

“I know,” he grits out. He doesn’t need to relive this mistake for the fourth time today.

“I’m not sure you should be in on this one.”

Steve gives him an incredulous look before returning his eyes to the road. “I’m not sure YOU should be in on this one!”

“I’m not the one-“

“They tortured you, Buck!” Steve shouts. It rings in the small confines of the car. “They broke you, and used you, and I’m supposed to be level headed about all this?”

“If you want to go in, yeah.”

“How can YOU be so calm about-“

“It’s the only way-“

“I want to kill them, Bucky. All of them. Every single one of them. I want to do it myself.” He says it quietly, it costs him to admit how much he wants it. He’s always to do the right thing, but he doesn’t care about that now. Not with this. After what they’ve done.

“You think I don’t?” Bucky yells, and it startles Steve. “We’ve got to play this smart. Every time you get wrapped up in it, you try to kill yourself and I can’t live with myself if you do that, okay?”

Steve flinches at the panic in his voice. “Buck, I don’t try-“

“You don’t try not to though, do you?”

“I wouldn’t do that. You believe me, right?” Bucky looks away, out the window. “On the helicarrier, I - I thought you’d never remember me, I didn’t know if I could keep losing you.”

“So you admit it,” Bucky finally says, quiet but angry.

Steve can’t find his voice to answer, and doesn’t want to see the look on Bucky’s face when he tells him he’s right.

The rest of the ride is silent, and once they’re home, Bucky goes straight to his room and closes the door.

~

“All right, Hawkeye, you stay up top, keep an eye out for anyone who might make trouble, coming or going.”

“Roger that, Cap,” Clint says, and he leaves their hiding spot a few alleys over from the HYDRA warehouse.

Steve adjusts the earpiece. “Bucky, you and Sam take the rear, Nat and I will take the front.”

Bucky looks at him questioningly; they’ve always worked together, had each other’s backs. But Steve knows Natasha will put him down if he tries something stupid like the last time. He tears his eyes away from Bucky and says, ”All right, let’s move out.”

Bucky and Sam disappear around the back of the building and he and Natasha creep forward. Natasha has her gun drawn and Steve has the shield in front of them both.

“Didn’t expect that,” she whispers.

“What?”

“You letting him out of your sight.”

Steve looks to her in time to catch the small, knowing smile. “Mostly I didn’t want to let me out of your sight. Just in case.”

“You could have sat this one out.” He glares at her and she rolls her eyes. “Fine. Maybe you couldn’t. Maybe you should have.”

“Would you have sat out the fight with Loki?”

Natasha looks thoughtful. “I suppose not.” Steve knows how close she is with Clint, how much she wanted to take Loki down not just for the alien attack, but for what he’d done to Barton.

Natasha opens the front door with the proper key sequence and they slip inside. There’s a long staircase down, leading underground. They follow it slowly, Steve glancing back every so often to see if they’re being followed. HYDRA has no idea they are here, it seems.

Just as that thought starts to comfort Steve, he hears gunshots ringing down the hall. He exchanges a look with Natasha and they run ahead. There’s a door at the end of the hall, and Natasha shoots the lock and moves aside for Steve to bust through it.

The room is bright, white walls and linoleum. Computers line the edges, and at each station, someone in a white lab coat. Blood drips down from each of them, soaks through their clothes, mats their hair. They’ve all been shot. Seven men and women, bleeding into their consoles, slumped onto the floor. There’s lab equipment in one corner. Viles full of blood. Bucky’s blood. There’s a leather chair in the middle, looking much like a dentist’s chair. The restraints dangling from it send a chill up Steve’s spine.

A man stands near the chair, holding a pistol in front of him, pointed at them. “Well well, Captain America. What a surprise.”

“Who the hell are you?” Steve demands, gripping the shield tighter.

“No one of consequence to you, Captain.”

“What happened to them?” Natasha asks, her gun pointed back at the man.

He glances around as if he’s forgotten about the people he’s clearly just shot. “Dead men tell no tales,” he smiles. Steve takes a step forward and the man cocks the gun, points it at Natasha. “Don’t do anything stupid, Captain. I know a simple bullet wouldn’t slow you down much, but she is, after all, only human.”

The door behind the man bursts open and Bucky and Sam run into the room, guns drawn. He turns to look and freezes when he sees Bucky. “So you’re a live then, Nichego?”

Bucky flinches as though he’s been hit. He can’t move, can’t speak. Steve uses the diversion to run at the man, who turns quickly and shoots. Steve easily deflects the bullet with his shield. The man squeezes something in his hand and the lights go out instantly.

No one wants to take a shot for fear of hitting the wrong target. There’s commotion, and Steve tries to reach out, grab the man, or grab Bucky. Red emergency lights flood the room and a loud alarm starts blaring. The man is gone, but the rest of them are accounted for and unscathed.

“Let’s grab a computer, and the-“ Steve turns to the lab, wanting to get the samples of Bucky’s blood, take them from HYDRA’s hands. But they’re already gone. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I don’t think that alarm means anything good.”

Steve grabs one of the computers, yanks the cords from the wall, and lifts it easily. They run down the front hall, up the steps and out. Steve has expected that the alarm was calling for backup, but the street is empty when they reach it.

“What was that about?” Sam asks, jogging along side Steve as they move to the location of the Quinjet.

“Hawkeye, anything?” Steve asks over his comm.

“No one in or out, nothing,” he gets back.

“I’m not sure, I thought-“

The building behind them bursts into flames, an explosion forcing them all forward and to the ground. Steve manages to keep the computer from being destroyed, just barely.

“Holy shit!” Sam shouts, picking himself off the ground and stumbling a bit.

“Lets get the hell out of here,” Steve directs, and they move quickly away. He falls in step next to Natasha and whispers, “What does Nichego mean?”

She glances back for Bucky’s location, to make sure he’s out of earshot. He looks rattled, pale and jumpy. “It means nothing.”

“What? You can tell me-“

“No,” she cuts him off. “That’s what it translates to. Nothing. Meaning that’s what they thought of Barnes. He was Nothing.”

~

Bucky is silent, won’t make eye contact. He sits alone at the far end of the jet, clutching his metal arm close to his body. Steve can’t stop looking over to him, he can’t stop thinking about how they called him Nothing. He’s furious, but can’t put the energy behind it because he’s also heartbroken. 

Barton sits down next to him. “Natasha filled me in.” Steve makes a noncommittal grunting noise. “We should ask him about the man-“

“Not yet.”

“Cap,” Barton starts, resting his hand on Steve’s shoulder. Steve tenses for a second, but Clint doesn’t move away. “I know why you don’t want to, but it’s something we need to know, and soon. That guy knows Bucky’s alive now, knows we’re on to him. The sooner-“

“Not. Yet.” Steve looks over to Clint. “I’ll talk to him about it. Just me. Once we’re home.”

Barton nods then settles in next to him for the flight back.

~

Steve doesn’t press him about it, he doesn’t even try talking to him at all. He makes them dinner and slides Bucky’s plate in front of him on the table. They eat in silence. Steve has no idea what to do, and realizes how stupid he’s been to think he could help Bucky at all. 

“His name is Petrovich,” Bucky finally says quietly, pushing his mashed potatoes across his plate. Steve feels like if he speaks, he might startle Bucky, so he only nods his head. “He was my handler. In Philadelphia.”

“Handler?” Steve asks for clarification.

“Anytime I was on a mission, depending on where I was, there was someone assigned to give me orders. I would only respond to them. In 2005, I was in Philadelphia on a mission.”

“What kind of mission?” He’s not sure if he wants to know, or why he needs to know.

Bucky shifts and stares at his plate. “Assassination. Mass murder. Retrieval of a valued artifact.”

The clinical nature in which Bucky lists his assignments twists Steve’s stomach into knots.

“After I had completed my mission, I returned to the warehouse to Petrovich. I was wiped and put back in cryo.” Bucky shivers, then pushes his plate away from him. He’s barely eaten.

“He called you something.”

Bucky huffs out a humorless laugh. “He called me Nothing. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”  
Steve feels ashamed for some reason, like he should have asked Bucky instead of Natasha for the translation. “We have to stop him. If he succeeds, he won’t stop with one. He’ll make an entire army.”

“Natasha is trying to track him down. I’ll text her the name, it’ll help. We’ll get him, Buck. I promise.”

Bucky finally looks up to him, his eyes haunted and dark. “We have to.”

~

Steve knows there’s no way he can land this thing safely. He knows there’s no way to get out of this alive. For some reason, having defeated Schmidt, taken down HYDRA like he vowed to do after Bucky died - it gives him peace. His heart hurts for Peggy, for what they might have had. For the life he’ll never know. But that life without Bucky in it… he’s not sure he could have lived it anyway.

He angles the nose of the plane down toward the water, into the ice. As he gets closer, that feeling of calm abruptly moves away and the panic that self perseverance brings lurches in him. The radio has cut out and he’s glad, because he wouldn’t want Peggy to hear but he can’t help the scream that rips from his throat-

“Steve! Steve, it’s okay. It’s okay. It was just a nightmare!”

He comes out of the dream and focuses, trying to take in his surroundings. His apartment, his room. Bucky standing in front of him, his hand still on Steve’s arm from where he was shaking him.

Steve swallows the dryness in his mouth, takes a few calming breaths. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow to chastise him for being stupid enough to apologize for it. “What was it this time?”

“The plane… the ice,” he explains. His heart is still hammering behind his ribs and his head hurts.

“Go back to sleep, yeah?” Bucky takes his hand away and Steve shivers at the loss, feels uneasy and jumpy.

“Yeah, I’ll try.” He hears the falseness in his own voice, but is too rattled to sound more convincing. He’s not sure what’s scarier about the dream; that he thought he was going to die, or that he didn’t. Sometimes he thinks it would have been easier.

Bucky sighs. “Move over.”

“You don’t have to-“

“I’ll lay on you if you don’t move,” Bucky threatens. Steve tries to hide his grateful expression and slides to one side of the bed, letting Bucky under the covers. “You might be too big to be the little spoon anymore.”

Steve’s laugh is small but genuine. “You wanna be the little spoon?”

“Roll over, jerk.” Steve does as he’s told, turns his back to Bucky. Bucky moves closer but doesn’t press their bodies together like he used to when Steve was freezing and suffering his annual pneumonia. He still throws one arm over him, though, and Steve feels instantly calmer. 

He slips into a peaceful sleep faster than he expects, and when he wakes up the next morning, Bucky is still there, snoring softly into his hair. Steve slips out from under his arm and tries to creep out of the room, doesn’t want to wake him.

“It’s rude to sneak out on someone, didn’t your mother ever tell you that?” Bucky mumbles sleepily.

Steve turns to face him. “Pretty sure even my own mother never thought I’d get the opportunity for a one night stand.”

Bucky laughs. “Look at you now, America’s most eligible bachelor.” Steve tries to smile at the joke, but he really doesn’t find much amusement in still being alone after so long. “Hey, I didn’t mean-“

“It’s fine. Guess I’m used to it by now.”

“Steve-“

“Wanna go out for breakfast? My treat.”

Bucky sighs, and Steve knows he’s going to let it go, at least for now. Breakfast is Bucky’s weakness, and Steve isn’t afraid to play dirty.

~

“Okay, so. I sent Natasha the name you gave me,” Steve says over chorizo burritos. Bucky only looks mildly uncomfortable, which might be progress. Steve will take what he can get these days. “She’s getting leads. Wants you and I to go to New York, get the computer to Stark.”

Bucky nods. “Is this a typical assignment for you? Go-for?” He’s smiling teasingly.

Steve wrinkles his nose. “No. But, it’s better than waiting. Plus, you can return Tony’s tablet.”

“Fat chance. Would be nice to see if he’s got any upgrades for my arm, though. When do we leave?”

~

Steve secures the computer in the backseat of his car while Bucky packs the trunk. Steve turned the private car Tony sent away, in favor of a good old fashioned road trip. Even if it’s only a few hours. Bucky seemed excited by the idea and that made all the difference to Steve.

The four hour drive up the coast is beautiful. Bucky loves the views, loves the music on the radio. Loves his freedom, Steve thinks, and his heart hurts with how much Bucky has lost, has missed. He was in the world when Steve wasn’t, but he didn’t get to experience it.

The doors to the garage open automatically when they arrive at Stark Tower and Steve pulls in, parks in an empty space. They get out of the car and unload.

“Welcome back, Sirs,” JARVIS’s voice comes from somewhere in the garage.

“Thanks, JARVIS,” Steve replies. “Where’s Tony?”

“Twenty first floor. With Doctor Banner.”

“Bruce is here?” 

“Yes, Sir. He arrived yesterday.”

“Who?” Bucky asks, shouldering their bags while Steve carries the computer toward the elevator.

“Dr. Banner. Uh, the Hulk.”

“Ah,” Bucky nods. The elevator doors slide closed.

“You’ll like him.”

“Sure. Will he like me?”

Steve is a little taken back by the question, but thinks maybe Bucky is always worried if people will be able to forgive him for what he’s done as the Winter Soldier. Steve thinks if anyone would understand, it would be Bruce. 

The doors slide open to a lab full of computer equipment. Tony and Bruce are untangling wires and look up as they enter.

“Aha, here they are! Cap, Barnes. Good to see you. Uh, Bruce? This is Bucky. Steve’s BFF.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he walks over to Bruce. He sets down the computer and shakes Banner’s hand. “It’s good to see you.”

“Good to be seen,” Bruce says. “Been laying low after New York.”

“People giving you trouble?” Steve won’t stand for that, not for a second. Bruce is a hero, just as much as the rest of them.

“A little more celebrity than I’m used to. You understand.” He smiles at Steve. Bucky has joined them and Bruce sticks out his hand. “Hey. Nice to meet you.”

Bucky shakes his hand. “You, too.”

“What are you guys up to with this?” Steve asks, looking at the mess of cables and monitors.

“Ancient tech requires ancient methods,” Tony says, going back to his tangle of cords. “This it?” He nods to the computer Steve set on the table.

“Yeah. Anything we can do?”

“Get out of our hair.”

Steve’s about to argue when Bucky speaks up, “Any place around here a guy can get a drink?”

Tony turns back to them and smiles at Bucky. “A man after my own heart. Penthouse level, just finished the post Loki reno. Full bar up there, TV, library. Make yourselves at home.” Steve really feels like they should stay and help and he hesitates. “I’ll let you know when we find something,” Tony tells him.

~

“I know you’re gonna hate me for saying so, but I like his style,” Bucky says. They’re sitting on a plush couch, facing an enormous TV that they haven’t bothered to turn on. Steve is nursing a beer more for ritual than anything else. Bucky is drinking his second whiskey on the rocks.

“Just seems a little unnecessary to me,” Steve replies.

“That’s because we grew up dirt poor.” Bucky has melted into the couch a little, pliable from the alcohol. He’s tipped in Steve’s direction, looking up to talk to him. It pulls on Steve’s heartstrings, thinking of their old apartment in Brooklyn and plenty of nights like this.

Except back then, Steve could get drunk, too. He’d be the one leaning in to Bucky, talking about what they were gonna do once Steve was a famous artist and Bucky was a renowned scientist. People always thought Bucky was the one getting them in to trouble, but that’s only because they saw Bucky finishing Steve’s fights. Bucky was a good student, smart. He loved knowing how things worked, how they were put together. He was a wiz at the mechanic’s shop, that’s how he was able to get so many extra hours so they could cover their rent.

Steve remembers the night before Bucky shipped out to Europe, and how excited Bucky had been about the Stark Expo. He’d been running from place to place, eyes wide and sparkling, dragging Steve and their reluctant double dates behind him. He idolized Howard Stark, which made it more devastating that HYDRA had used him to kill Tony’s parents.

“Bet he’d let you stay for a while, if you wanted,” Steve says finally.

Bucky shrugs one shoulder. “Maybe.”

“You should, if you want. He’d love showing off to you, and you’d have access to all this stuff.”

“Wouldn’t really want to unless you were here, too.” Bucky straightens up a little. “So. Steve.”

Steve’s not sure where this is going, but it sounds kind of serious and it puts him on edge. He takes a sip of his beer. It’s starting to get warm. “Yeah.”

“Why aren’t you dating anyone?”

Steve breathes out a laugh; he thought this was going to be about something way more important than the lack of his love life. “Really? You’re as bad as Natasha.”

Bucky grins. “Good to know someone else is looking out for you. C’mon, though. You could have any girl you wanted.”

Steve sighs. “That’s the problem. When you’re… when you’re widely recognized-“

“Famous.”

“Fine, famous. It’s hard to tell what people’s motives are. They don’t really know me. Peggy, she… she knew me before the serum, wasn’t impressed by celebrity. I didn’t have to worry about what she was after. But… things didn’t work out that way. Now no one knows who I really was, what made me who I am.”

Bucky is leaning closer again, his eyes locked on Steve. It makes Steve squirm a little, and he tries to think of something to say to change the subject. His mouth is dry and his hands a little unsteady when he wets it with his beer. Bucky hasn’t looked away and Steve feels like he might leap out of his skin.

“I knew you. I know you,” Bucky says, slurring a little from the drink.

Steve doesn’t even move at first, just takes steady breaths. Bucky is getting closer and Steve lets himself lean in close the gap, see what happens…

“Rogers, Barnes,” Tony’s voice comes from the intercom. Steve pulls away like he’s been caught, and Bucky merely sits up straight. “Found something. You’ll probably want to hear this now.”

~

Bruce and Tony are huddled around a monitor filled with text when Steve and Bucky get back to the lab.

“What did you find?” Steve asks immediately.

“So far? We think we know where Petrovich might be hiding. There’s a HYDRA base, right here in the city. Closest one to Philly, makes sense that’s where he’d flee to,” Tony tells them.

“What about the research? Was it destroyed with the facility?”

“Not likely,” Banner speaks up. “Looks like they have all their systems linked world wide, so the information is backed up and shared everywhere. But it does seem like it was the only lab actively doing the research.”

“What does that mean?” Bucky asks.

“The only blood samples they had were the ones in Philadelphia,” Tony says.

Bruce takes off his glasses. “They’ve already used up most of their supply, from what I can tell from their research notes. If my calculations are correct, they have 5 viles left.”

“What’s our move?” Tony asks Steve.

“Call in Natasha and Clint. They can bring Sam from DC. Tomorrow morning, we storm the base, take down Petrovich, take the samples.”

Tony nods. “I’ll put in the call.”

~

“It’s called Wai-Go Industries, right here in Manhattan. The front is pioneering mag-lev trains for inter continental transport, but the offices are reported to be empty by my eyes on the ground. In true HYDRA fashion, the real operation is below the false offices, underground,” Natasha briefs them, scrolling through images projected over the table they’ve gathered around.

“How many?” Steve asks.

“That’s the weird part. Recon shows no activity. No engineers, no agents,” Barton says.

“What about Petrovich?” Tony asks.

“My source says he went in two days ago, hasn’t come out.”

“So he’s hiding,” Steve says. “Good. Okay, even though it looks like an easy in and out, let’s stay on our toes. Tony, Bucky, and I will go in first, then follow us in. I don’t want to take any chances with this guy, this looks like a definite trap. We leave in an hour.”

They disperse to get ready but Sam lingers behind. “What?” Steve asks. He knows that look from Sam.

“I’m not saying this is a bad idea, but this is a bad idea.”

“Gee, thanks.” Steve starts down the hall to his room, where his uniform and shield are waiting.

“I just mean Barnes going in on this one.” Steve stops and turns to him. “This guy knows him, Cap. Used to have a direct hand in controlling him. I don’t know if Bucky is ready to face him.”

“Do you wanna be the one to tell him he can’t go?” Steve starts walking again and Sam falls in step beside him.

“He wouldn’t listen to me, but he would listen to you.”

“I can’t ask that of him, Sam. He has every right to face this guy, to have a hand in taking him down.”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about! It’s too personal. I don’t even think you should be going-“

They stop outside Steve’s door and he fixes Sam with his eyes. “I’m going. I have to see this done. Sam, I know what you’re trying to do. But… I have to make sure this happens.”

“That what happens? Retrieving the samples, destroying the base… capturing Petrovich?”

Steve looks away, because he knows what Sam is getting at. Steve has no intention of taking Petrovich alive, but he’s keeping that to himself. Steve would normally never kill someone if there was another way, but he can’t see another way here. He can’t let him live.

“Yeah. Look, you should suit up. We don’t have much time.”

Sam gives him a concerned look that makes him feel instantly guilty, but he won’t change his mind. Not about this.

~

Wai-Go Industries looks like a normal business from the outside. It’s clean and in good repair, looks completely functional. Steve breaks the lock on the front door and they go in.

The first room is a waiting area with a large desk at the opposite end that has the company logo on the front. They move through it quietly, scanning for potential threats.

“No sign of surveillance yet,” Stark confirms. Bucky moves first into the adjoining room, his gun drawn. He’s wearing his Winter Soldier armor, which will help protect him but also gives Steve an unsettled feeling. Bucky gestures the all clear and they move into the next room.

It’s dark but Steve can make out the rows of cubicles, abandoned office chairs, dead house plants. Papers litter the floor, but there’s to be no sign of any altercation. It appears to have been abandoned. Judging by the layer of dust, it’s been a while.

“We have eyes on us,” Barton says, nodding to the security cameras in the corners of the room.

“Can we tell if they’re live?” Steve asks.

“Negative, Cap. Old tech, I can’t get a read-“

“They’re live,” Stark interrupts Clint. “He knows we’re here.”

“Then let’s be ready for him,” Steve growls.

“The elevator ahead will lead us to the base,” Natasha tells them, and Tony leads the way, summoning the elevator. They file in and Natasha enters a code into the keypad so that it will take them down.

“Good thing Banner sat this one out, I don’t think Hulk would fit in here,” Tony jokes. Steve kind of wishes he hadn’t though. The more fire power, the merrier.

The elevator opens and Steve has to blink to adjust his eyes to the bright light beyond it. This room looks very similar to the one in Philadelphia, but the leather chair is missing from the center. Petrovich is seated at one of the computer stations and swivels his chair toward them.

“I had assumed you would be here sooner,” Petrovich says.

“Who else is here?” Steve demands.

“Only me, Captain. But I thought you knew that?”

Steve glances to Natasha and Clint and they lower their weapons to do a sweep on the room. Tony keeps a repulor trained on Petrovich, along side Bucky and Sam’s guns. “It’s clear,” Clint reports.

“If you knew we were coming, why didn’t you run?” Steve asks. Something isn’t right about this. One man, apparently unarmed, casually waiting for them to turn up.

“What would be the point of that when I tried so hard to leave you a trail to follow?”

“Can we take that as a surrender?” Tony speaks up. Petrovich sneers.

“I would advice against that,” he says calmly. Steve notices it too late - the remote in his hand - and he’s squeezing it.

The lights don’t dim this time, but panels of the wall slide down and gun barrels push free, aiming at them. Another push of a button and bullets start to rain down. Natasha, Clint, and Sam take cover under the desks, firing at Petrovich. He dodges behind his own work station right as Tony sends a blast his way. Bucky deflects the bullets with his left arm, Steve with his shield.

“We need to take out the guns. Stark, can you-“

“Already on it!” Tony cuts in, standing at one station while Bucky covers him, firing at Petrovich’s location. Tony is typing quickly but nothing is changing.

“Tony-“

“Oh boy,” Tony grumbles. “I can’t get it. I guess I’ll just do this the old fashioned way.” He aims his blasts at the guns directly, blowing them up. “A little help, here,” he calls to the others.

Bucky is moving in on Petrovich, aim steady, shots ringing off the metal of the desk he’s behind. 

“Bucky wait!” Steve shouts. The guns are still firing, pinning down Natasha, Clint, and Sam. Petrovich throws what looks like a grenade from his location and Steve jumps toward it to deflect it away from the team. It goes off too soon. Instead of an explosion, electricity zaps out of it, shocking the Iron Man suit. Tony falls to his knees.

“Stark!”

“I’m fine. It fried the suit! I’m rebooting, hold him off until-“

Steve hears Petrovich’s voice, quiet and calm. “Aktivirovat’.”

Bucky stops, lowers his gun. The tension leaves him. Steve feels like he’s falling. “Bucky-“

“Idi syuda,” Petrovich says. Bucky walks slowly over to him. “Khoroshiy mal’chik.” Bucky turns to face Steve and Tony. His eyes are blank, his expression neutral. Steve knows what this means, knows that it isn’t Bucky he’s looking at.

“I should thank you, Captain Rogers, for bringing back what belongs to me.”

“Please,” Steve begs, holding up his hands. He doesn’t what he’s even asking for - Bucky’s release? A cease fire? Maybe he should surrender-

“Teper’ ubit’ yego,” Petrovich whispers right into Bucky’s ear. The blankness is replaced with instant rage and Bucky lowers his head and charges at Steve.

“Stark!” he hears Natasha scream.

“One second, system almost online-“

Bucky has crashed into Steve and they hit the floor. Before Steve can react, Bucky’s metal hand is around his neck, applying crushing pressure. Steve can’t breathe. He grabs at Bucky’s hand, tries to pull it away. Bucky presses harder.

“Tony , do something!”

“The blast fried my weapons! I can’t - wait. JARVIS, pull up the HYDRA records on The Winter Soldier. Search shut down code.”

Steve is starting to black out, he can’t get any air around Bucky’s grip. Bucky is grimacing, pure hatred at Steve. 

“Such a good soldier, always completes his mission,” Petrovich says.

“There! There, there!” Tony shouts, then, “Sputnik!”

Bucky collapses on Steve’s chest, his hand dropping from his throat. Steve gasps for air, coughing. He shakes Bucky, but he doesn’t respond. “Bucky? What did you-“

“In the files. Shut down code,” Tony answers. “He should be fine, Cap.”

“You can only use that trick once, Iron Man. Are you sure that was the right time?” Petrovich asks.

Rage overtakes Steve and he eases Bucky to the floor, then grabs his shield and stands. Petrovich has a gun now and he’s pointing it at Steve. Steve doesn’t care, he runs forward, deflecting the shots as he goes.

“Steve, no!” Natasha yells, Steve can barely hear her. A bullet hits his shoulder, but he doesn’t slow down. He tackles Petrovich and the gun flies from his hand and slides out of reach. The remote has also slid free and Tony runs to pick it up to stop the guns.

“What are you going to go, Captain? Kill me? Where is the justice in-“

Steve grabs Petrovich by the head and twists, a quick snap. The bullets stop, but Steve stays still, straddling Petrovich’s limp form.

“Get him out of here,” Clint says, and the Iron Man suit grabs Steve under the arms.

“C’mon Cap,” Tony mutters, lifting into the air.

“We have to get Bucky-“

“They’ve got him, it’s okay,” Tony soothes.

Steve’s throat is raw and sore and it hurts to breathe. He goes limp in Tony’s arms as they fly back to Stark Tower.

~

“Banner, incoming. Meet me in the med lab, we have injuries,” Stark says over his comm. They’re touching down on the landing pad and Tony finally lets go of Steve. Steve isn’t hurt so badly that he can’t stand but he sways anyway when he’s supporting his own weight. “Easy there, Rogers. I got you.”

Tony slings Steve’s arm over his shoulder and helps him to the elevator, which takes them quickly to the med lab. Bruce is waiting, rushing to set up a station. “How many?”

“Two for sure,” Stark replies. “Rogers and Barnes, Falcon’s on his way with him.” Tony eases Steve onto a bed.

Bruce looks down at Steve with concern. “What happened?”

“Bullet wound, neck injury,” Stark tells him.

“And the mission?”

“Petrovich is dead.”

Bruce looks up and Tony, then back down to Steve. “Not before he caused some damage I see.”

“Yeah, well. The bruises weren’t him. Had to use the shut down code.”

Bruce knew about it, too? Why didn’t they tell Steve? Bruce frowns. “I was hoping that wouldn’t be necessary. Okay, Steve, I need you to take off the top of you uniform so I can dig the bullet out.”

Sam and Clint push through the door with Bucky’s limp form being drug between them.

“Is he-“ Steve starts, sitting up. Bruce puts a hand on his chest, and it’s not enough to stop him, but he doesn’t push it.

“Alive,” Clint says. He and Sam arrange Bucky on another bed.

“Cap, I need to take the bullet-“

“Check on him first!” Steve demands.

“He’s not the injured one,” Clint points out. 

“Him first.”

Tony sighs. “JARVIS, run a scan on Barnes.”

“Certainly, Sir,” JARVIS replies. “Vitals are steady, there is no damage.”

“Why won’t he wake up?” Steve asks. His own voice sounds foreign to him, rough and full of alarm.

“He appears to be in stasis, Captain. But he is otherwise in perfect health.”

“Now can I get that bullet out?” Bruce asks kindly.

~

Bruce steps out of the med lab as soon as he’s cleaned Steve’s bullet wound and checked on Bucky for himself. As soon as they’re alone, Steve gets up and goes to sit in the chair beside Bucky, who’s still unconscious.

Steve takes Bucky’s hand and clears his throat. It’s still a little sore, but he’s already started to heal. Bruce didn’t even need to stitch the bullet hole. “Buck, it wasn’t your fault. I know that. I - I know you probably can’t hear me, but I needed to tell you. Please don’t blame yourself.”

The door opens and Natasha steps in the room. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he answers, not taking his eyes off Bucky.

“You know why I’m here.”

Steve sighs. “You want to talk about what happened back there.”

“Wanna step into the hall?”

Steve shakes his head. “He’s out cold, and I want to be here when he wakes up.”

Natasha crosses her arms over her chest casually. “Don’t be so sure about him,” she nods to Bucky. “It’ll only take a second, come on.”

Steve reluctantly releases Bucky’s hand and follows Natasha into the hall, closing the door behind him. “You think he’s aware of what’s going on?”

She shrugs. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“What about the blood samples, did you-“

“Destroyed them myself. Listen, Steve…”

“I know. I went too far. But Nat-“

“No excuses,” she cuts him off sternly. “You used to give me a hard time when I jeopardized the mission, and now you’re doing it. You have a blind spot because of him, and because of what we’re doing. You can’t handle it.”

“What? I made one mistake-“

“That could have gotten you killed!” she shouts, the composes herself. “You’re off this one, Steve,”

He opens his mouth to argue when a crash from inside the lab grabs their attention. They run back in, and Steve feels faint when he sees Bucky’s bed empty. One of the windows is broken and Steve runs to it, looking out and down. The street below is covered in shards of glass, but there’s no sign of Bucky.

~

“I’m going after him,” Steve says sternly when they’re meeting later that night. “What if Petrovich…”

“I wouldn’t,” Clint says, and Steve glares at him. “What? I didn’t mean it like that, Cap. I’m just saying, he’s the best at what he does, being a ghost. If he doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be. Chasing him is only going to push him farther out. I say you let him come back in.”

“What if he doesn’t?” Steve says quietly.

“Clint’s right,” Sam says, which makes Tony snort.

“First time for everything,” Clint mutters.

“Anyway,” Sam continues, slightly annoyed. “He needs some time. You should give it to him.”

“What if he’s not even Bucky anymore? What if he might hurt someone, or himself? I’m supposed to give him time? I don’t know if I can do that,” Steve admits, sinking back into his chair. 

“I don’t think you have another choice,” Bruce says.

~

Steve decides to stay at Stark Tower for the night, just in case Bucky comes back. He can’t sleep; he can’t stop thinking of Bucky’s hand around his throat, the look in his eyes when Petrovich called to him. The snap of Petrovich’s neck. The possibility that Bucky might be under HYDRA control again. The shut down code stopped him, but did it stop the programming?

He slides out of bed and creeps down the hall to the elevator. He takes it to the computer lab floor. “JARVIS?” he asks quietly.

“Sir.”

“Can you… I don’t want anyone to know I’m here.”

“Understood, Sir.”

“Can you pull up the information on the HYDRA bases? I want to know what our next lead is.”

“Of course, Sir,” JARVIS replies. Text scrolls over the screen and Steve waits, glancing around to make sure no one sees him. “Here is the information you have requested, Captain Rogers.”

“Thanks,” Steve says. He sits in the chair in front of the monitor and moves close, eyes skimming over the displayed text. He finds what he wants quickly - the name of Petrovich’s commanding officer. Someone named Dehnert. Last known location is a HYDRA base in Colorado, a place called Mount Charteris. Steve’s car is still in the garage, he can easily slip out, head that way. He thinks maybe that would be Bucky’s move, to take out Dehnert. Unless Bucky isn’t Bucky anymore. Even so, the Winter Soldier would most likely report to whoever had rank on Petrovich. Either way, the path leads to Colorado.

Steve knows he should tell someone, take a team, be smart about this. He also knows they’ll tell him to sit it out, or worse, that they shouldn’t go at all. Steve can’t wait to see if Bucky just comes back. He won’t leave him out there alone. He can’t.

He’s a little surprised that he’s able to get out of the Tower without security alerting someone, or someone hearing, but he’s grateful. It’s just before dawn as he pulls onto the interstate, going West. 

~

Steve stops at a hotel in Illinois for the night, paying cash so his card can’t be traced. He’s had his phone off, too, knowing Tony can track him that way. It’s risky, if Bucky is trying to contact him. He’ll turn it on once he’s in Colorado; it’ll be too late for them to stop him, might even be helpful if he needs eventual backup.

~

The mountains of Burton Canyon still have snow on their peaks, and Steve takes the turns carefully. The base is hidden and Steve isn’t sure how he’s going to find it, let alone infiltrate it. He leaves his car parked off one of the lower roads as to not arouse suspicion, carrying only a small pack and his shield. The uniform is, thankfully, impervious to the cold. He knows the base is in one of the higher peaks, so he climbs, keeping as far off the road as he can so he won’t be seen.

Steve accends quickly and begins circling one of the peaks, looking for a sign of footprints or spots in the rock where it might open. It’s tedious and frustrating. Natasha would probably have some gadget to locate it, and Steve wishes she was by his side to help.

He hears a car coming and moves behind the tree line, keeping to the shadows. A large white SUV climbs up the road and Steve follows its slow crawl through the snow. It stops, facing the mountain, and the rock slides open. Men with guns flank the garage as the car slips inside, at least eight men that he can see. This isn’t going to be as easy as the other bases, this one looks active.

Steve turns his phone on, but there’s no signal. Tony should still be able to track it, they’ll know where he is. He doesn’t know how long it will take them to get there, if they come.

He creeps to the entryway, unsure how to open it, but it slides open automatically when he stands where the car had been. His shield is raised, prepared for a firefight. No bullets come, and Steve assesses the situation. The armed men have left and the garage is empty except for the car. Steve moves inside, the door closing behind him. It’s dark in the large room, but Steve is able to see a door at the far end. He makes his way to the door. It’s not locked, and he goes through, into the hallway beyond. There’s another door ahead, the base must be on the other side.

Suddenly, gas floods the hallway. Steve pivots and pulls on the door he just came through, but it’s locked. He runs to the other door, but it won’t budge. He covers his mouth and nose with his left arm and strikes the door with his shield in the other. He’s coughing, trying to blink away the burning in his eyes, tears blurring his vision. He can’t breathe and feels dizzy.

~

Steve wakes groggily, head pounding with the poison of the gas. He tries to reach up to wipe his stinging eyes, but his arms won’t move. Panic floods him and he lurches against the metal restraints holding him down. He looks around wildly, at the room that’s so familiar by now, just like the rest. Computers, surveillance cameras. The leather chair in the middle that he’s strapped into. The device hanging ominously over his head.

“Ah, so nice of you to join us, Captain.” Thick German accent. Reminds him of Schmidt. Steve struggles, but the restraints were made to contain Bucky, he knows he can’t get free. “Don’t waste your energy.” 

A man comes into view, sneering at him. He has fair skin, light brown hair. He’s wearing standard HYDRA issue fatigues, and Steve thinks he must be low level, a grunt. Except that the other people in the room seem to cower away if he comes near to them. 

“Dehnert,” Steve rasps, voice choked from the gas.

The man grins. “You’ve done your homework. And so have I,” he says, holding a file up for Steve to see. Rogers, Steven G. written on the label. “I’m so glad you could make it. Since your Iron Man has decommissioned our Soldier, we will just have to start fresh, yes? Physically, you are far superior anyway. Although, you could use some, ah, upgrades.”

“What the hell do you think you’re going to do to me?” Steve shouts, even though he knows. He knows exactly what they plan to do with him. Memory wipe. Brainwash. Torture. If he can keep Dehnert talking, he can stall, maybe Stark has tracked him, there’s a Quinjet in the air-

“I think you already know the answer to that, yes? Shall we begin?” he says to the women wearing lab coats on either side of the chair. One of them types on her computer and the chair reclines. Steve’s fights against the metal wildly, his heart hammering in his chest. This can’t happen. He can’t be HYDRA’s new weapon; they’ll use him in every way he fears, he can’t-

The device lowers above his head, presses on his temples. Electricity rockets through his brain and all he can hear is his own blood curdling scream.

~

“-you’re so damn stupid, how many times do I have to tell you?”

A man is speaking. The voice sounds weirdly familiar, although he’s not sure he can identify it. He blinks his eyes open, to the dark room he’s in. He’s in a bed, but not restrained. It’s a hospital, he knows this. The drapes, the sink, the medical waste bin.

‘Steve?” The voice says. He turns his head to see who is speaking. Young man, long dark hair. Unwashed. Scruff of a beard. Relieved expression. “Oh my god, I thought you were never gonna wake up, I thought-“ He stops, his voice unsteady, full of emotion. Light catches and draws his eyes. The fingers of his left hand, made of metal.

He frowns. “Who-“ His voice is rough from lack of use. He clears his throat. The man quickly moves to give him a glass of water. He sits up and takes it, tries again. “Who are you?”

That man’s face falls, and he - Steve, the guy had called him Steve - feels weirdly guilty, although he doesn’t know why. “You… you don’t know me?”

“I can’t remember,” he admits. He can’t remember anything.

**Author's Note:**

> Russian Translation - 
> 
> Aktivirovat: Activate  
> Idi syuda: Come here  
> Khoroshiy mal’chik: Good boy.  
> Teper’ ubit’ yego: Now kill him.
> 
> I got these from Google Translate and another website. Apologies if they're terrible!


End file.
